


Lured Astray

by Serendivinity



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendivinity/pseuds/Serendivinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh love is such a cruel thing isn't it? Especially when it isn't straight forward, no, definitely not.<br/>You were invited along with Thorin and Co after being rescued by an angry Warg in the eastern woods by the Dwarf with the sheepish smile, and invited into the house of the strange but admirable Hobbit, Bilbo.<br/>Dragged on an adventure of epic proportions you gained more than you bargained for and lost more than you had to begin with...</p><p>Bofur x Reader x Bilbo</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sheepish Smiles and Dirty Dishes

**Author's Note:**

> Yepyepyep. I'm back, I haven't written anything in a while. I INTENDED for this to be a Reader/Bofur one shot, but let's turn this into a mini story?  
> Because as I wrote Bilbo in I thought... eh why not have some fun with a love triangle, I haven't ever written one of those. So let's decide in the comments: Eventual Reader/Bilbo or Eventual Reader/Bofur  
> DECIDE! Muhaha! Either way, one of them is going to get their heart broken by you!
> 
> If you see any typos just lemme know, my average type speed is like 180 wpm. D: I make a lot of mistakes!  
> I tried to Beta myself before posting, but oh well... enjoy.

**Sheepish smiles and Dirty Dishes**  
  
Chapter One:   
  
“But I’m sick of these damn Dwarves throwing food!” You whined, a little too loudly. Bofur grunted and decided he would throw an apple at your head. It hit its intended target with ease. You snapped your head round to see him and several Dwarves laughing at you on horseback, and one hobbit smiling. “Oh you too? Charming! Chivalry really is dead!” you exclaimed.  
  
“I didn't throw the apple did I?” the smile still didn't fade from his face.   
  
“No, but you’re guilty by association!” you barked.   
  
“Are all you hobbits so uptight?” Bofur interjected. Bilbo looked a little offended by the comment, his smile faded a little. Yours grew a lot.   
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Why were you riding with 13 Dwarves, a Hobbit, and a wizard that had wondered off at that particular moment? Well, it all started when you decided to explore the eastern woods on the boarder of the shire, against your family’s wishes...   
  
Of course they never agreed to such nonsense, they always joked that you would be the perfect match for the strange Took family! The cheek of it!   
  
You were respectable in your own way. Without telling them you decided to venture out of your hobbit hole without disturbing your family, your silent little feet plodded on, through the halls, through the door, through the front garden and down, down the hill and into the woods. You felt accomplished! Oh, ho, what a merry summer day it was!   
  
Feeling overconfident you ventured into the deeper parts that you had never worked up a nerve to approach before.   
You climbed trees, splashed about in the small stream, until you heard the call of a wolf...   
  
No, it was too deep and bellowing to be a wolf! Oh the gods, it was getting closer, you decided to run, slipping silently through the forest. It must have picked up your scent, because the howl was following you, on you ran quicker and quicker until it was almost upon you!  
  
A clash of steel, a whimper and then a grunt, a howl and a snarl, a crunch and then silence. By the time you dared look behind you, you had scaled a tree, and began foraging for a weapon of sorts.   
  
“Uh it’s alright to come down now lass, the beast is dead!” Looking through the foliage, was his sheepish grin, sparkling eyes and an axe thrown over his back nonchalantly, as if it was common to slay Wargs in these parts.   
  
“The name is Bofur,” he bowed, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest. Never once did you take your eyes off that gleaming smile. He held out his hand. “And what might your name be, is it as beautiful as your face?” he asked as you began climbing down the tree, your face flushed a little and you didn't reply to such a nonsensical comment!   
  
You jumped down effortlessly from the lowest branch, sweeping your feet gracefully on the floor —admittedly you had the grace of a drunken bee flying at a window when you were showing off, thank the heavens it went smoothly this time!—  
  
“_Y/N_, thank you, for saving me, Bofur.” Oh, he was handsome, for a Dwarf.   
  
“Ahh, I do believe I’m late for a party, I don’t expect anyone would object if I invited a guest!” This one certainly was forward, but curiosity in the pit of your stomach sparked and the sound of something interesting was just all too much. “Would you like to attend with me, Miss _Y/N_?”   
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Bilbo was certainly surprised to see a Dwarf arrive with a local hobbit, well he was surprised to see Dwarves at his door at all, this business was becoming messy, and he certainly couldn't focus with all this noise, more and more of them arrived and he was trying to calm the ruckus that has arisen, 12 of them were in his house now, another hobbit and a wizard.   
  
What was her name? He couldn't place it, he had heard talk of the strange girl with the long _H/C_ hair that stayed out until ridiculous hours, trampling in mud into her parent’s home, her sisters were dreadful, he knew that much, at least her brother was a pleasant fellow.   
  
That was it! Her name was _Y/N_!  
  
He couldn't stop staring at her across the table as she sat next to Bofur, laughing and joking, other Dwarves engaging in conversation with her. That little glimmer of his heritage starting to work its way through his mind, the aloof Took side of his nature...  
  
She was a curious creature indeed. Much like Bilbo in his younger days, but she couldn't have been much younger than him, she just retained her free spirit, while his Baggins' blood had him shackled to Bag End.   
  
The Dwarves all began a song about how Bilbo hated their mannerisms. Bilbo watched as Bofur began spinning her around and around, she danced with the Dwarves from one to another, and he just watched her mesmerised by the way she moved, her grace, her poise, elegance, until she fell over, Bofur caught her with ease.   
  
He had known her but five minutes to this degree and already he was transfixed on her, feeling a little green in the eyes for the way that she interacted with the Dwarves, Bofur in particular... The memory hit him, he did know you, albeit a much younger you, but he remembered the girl with the green scarf in her dazzling _H/C_ hair...  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
When he arrived, the whole room grew eerie and silent, a large knock on the door stopped the merry tune dead, Gandalf removed the pipe from his mouth and uttered "He's here", everyone beheld him with awe when the door was opened and he motioned in, you were sure that your mouth was gaping open to behold someone of such nobility so close. He commanded the respect that a king would, and you soon learned he was the rightful king of Erebor, the Dwarven mountain that was now a story of old legend. One that you had studied in detail when you were younger. Oh, you felt the pain and the sorrow reading those stories in your books and listening to Old Took's tales, you wanted to bow and embrace the nearest dwarf and tell them that one day they would get it back from that disgusting dragon! Gladly, you refrained from doing so, and thus learned of their quest in the dimly lit halls of the Baggins estate.   
  
Throin hadn't noticed you at first... When he did, he asked Gandalf to which hobbit was he addressing as their burglar, you just gasped in horror at the thought and couldn't bring yourself to point at Bilbo and shout ‘Him!’  
  
The wizard smiled. A very ominous smile and simply said. “Choose whichever one you must, but I do believe both of them will have a large amount of use for their size, before the end of this quest...”  
  
“Very well. Bilbo, I assume you to be our first choice of burglar, what say you?”   
  
Poor Bilbo, he Umm'd and Ahh'd until finally, he fainted. You slipped out of your chair quickly and ran to him, slapping his face rather unceremoniously.   
  
You knew Bilbo a little as a child, but he seemed to have forgotten who you were in later years with the burdens on his mind, losing his parents and locking himself away, you didn't blame him, you weren't exactly best of friends, but old Took would tell tales of his adventures, Bilbo would proudly sit and listen, and so would you.   
  
You admired his Took spirit, but as the years went on, you didn't see much of him. Your brother would tease you as a child, saying that you should marry him, because you were both ‘ridiculously strange’; such was the choice of words that your family would use to describe you, however your brother was sincere in this matter.   
  
 **~POV~**  
  
His eyes fluttered open to find you hovering above them. Your _E/C_ eyes radiant in the candle light. He couldn't think for a moment, and then it set in —he was to steal a hoard of gold from a fire breathing Dragon, hell bent on killing all Dwarves under the mountain of Erebor. He heard the tales as a child, Old Took would reside them to him and a small group of friends.—  
  
You handed him a hot cup of herbal tea, and his mind wondered back to the idea of being burned to a crisp in the most comical fashion.   
  
The way you moved and the way you swept about the place, silent, no smile adorning your face, almost as if you had become a humble hobbit by normality, tidying up after the Dwarves who had left the most tremendous mess, All of them now watching poor Bilbo with concern towards his outburst and eagerly awaiting his answer.   
  
He protested, Gandalf tried to reassure him but he couldn't grasp the gravity of the quest; Bilbo didn't like the idea of adventures. They were nonsense. Besides, they had a swift and silent hobbit in their company now to whom they had offered a place in their midst. But Bilbo imagined Smaug the terrible as he had done as a child, ripping the flesh from your bones, burning your beautiful features to nothing. No- he couldn't let you be that in his place.   
  
He waited until you were in the kitchen; he arose and swiftly motioned over to your figure, humming away as you washed the steady stack of pots.    
  
“Are — are you going with them... _Y/N_?” he winced in the case his mind had played tricks on him and he got your name wrong.   
  
“You remember my name?” your eyes went wide, and you dropped the pot into the bowl, before shaking off the look that had crept up and contorted your face to resemble shock; picking up the pot once more and continuing to wash it, the soap suds feeling like popping silk against your skin as you focused on the suds.    
  
“Um, yes I intend to help them, but I do not intend to be used as bait for a Dragon, I was hoping that you would volunteer for that role, you really aren't like you used to be Bilbo...” your face seemed sad, how did you know he used to be? Bilbo thought to himself.  
  
“Oh, yes I've heard your name once or twice, you know what it's like on Market day, you hear stories about almost everyone who lives here!” he lied. “I... I can’t. I’m not equipped to deal with dragon, or quests, or... well anything really,” he doubted himself so much... it was almost pitiful, but you just patted him on the shoulder with one of your wet, soapy hands, not really sorry that you had dampened the fancy fabric of his shirt.   
  
“I’m sure you’ll find some courage by morning,” you smiled at him. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but his cheeks stained a pale colour of rose and he left the room, not offering to help you with the washing up. Lazy hobbit! You huffed but carried on washing away, your thoughts carrying you far from any mortal realm of middle earth as you envisaged the quest you were bby chance about to embark upon.  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Thankfully, Bilbo had come crashing through the woods the very day and agreed to be the companies burglar. Naturally, you were thrilled to have another hobbit on board with this quest, and thrilled at the prospect that you weren't in the position of burglar now, the Dwarves were making a rather large fuss about the fact that you were a lady and not to be accompanying them in the first place, however the Wizard had foreseen your use to which the Dwarves did not question. Thorin had took Gandalf's advice, however he was still not overjoyed about having two ‘useless’ hobbit along for the ride, saying that you were both a burden on their journey on more than one occasion.   
  
You were abundantly graceful in the art of running away and Bilbo was an expert in tripping over his own feet and falling into mud, or his big feet clashing against his pony’s side, causing it to run off into the wilderness, dragging him with it by the saddle.  
  
After a few days of travelling with the company you had learned to thoroughly enjoy being among the group. They would talk animatedly about their home land and those that were too young to remember or never witnessed it for themselves listened with great attention, eyed wide and ears keen to Balin's words.   
  
The nights were spent with song and dance, Bofur often pushing you to your feet and dancing round and around, until you were dizzy, as soon as you stopped to catch a breath Fili or Kili would grab your arm and spin you around.  
  
You would offer your hand to Bilbo, but for the most part he would refuse. Until the Dwarves tired of his refusals and pushed him to his feet, forcing him to take your hand and saying it was 'Rude to refuse a beautiful lady' which would make you blush.  
  
Bofur would try and hide his anxiety with a smile when you danced with Bilbo.   
  
He couldn't place why it stung a little to see you lost in the Hobbit's arms as much as his own... After all you and Bilbo were both Hobbits...

 

 

Reference note:

_Y/N_ (Insert your name here)  
_E/C_ (Insert your eye colour here  
_H/C_ (Insert your hair colour here)


	2. Travellers, Trolls and Taverns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Finally after posting several works I find out how to edit a chapter properly! Haha  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what the preferred pairing before I choose and disappoint all of you.  
> How about Gollum? Mmmm. 
> 
> Lots of Bofur/Reader in this one, we need some Bilbo/Reader in the next one, don't we?  
> Haha, I'm wicked and cruel!

**Travellers, Trolls and Taverns**  
  
 **Chapter Two:**  
  
The night had grown weary, and so had the company. Gandalf had stalked off that evening insisting that the Dwarves were fools, and thus extending to Hobbits for that matter, as he proclaimed he was the only sane one... You begged to differ on this occasion and he walked into the woods, alone, muttering to himself.  
  
The group began a fire, and Bombur started to prepare the most splendid meal for everyone to have an uneven share of...  
  
There was laughing and joking, and the last of the ale was dished out. The Dwarves were still merry, they sang songs of the mountains... you didn't realise you were crying until they stopped singing, their eyes now on you, which made you feel self conscious, touching your face you found the source of their interest. They really should stop singing that song around you...  
  
"Sorry," you muttered.  
  
"No, don't be lassie, nobody sheds a tear for our sorrow, so thank you." Balin spoke softly. You smiled and laughed it off. How embarrassing. Trying to change the subject you began asking them questions about what they used to do before this quest, their professions. You learned that most of them weren't warriors, but they were fierce fighters none the less.  
  
“So lass, have you got anyone special back home?” It was an innocent question, or so you thought. His devilishly wide smile made it difficult to tell in any circumstance.  
  
“Erm, no. Everyone thinks me odd, or unattractive.” Bofur scoffed at this comment, and it hurt a little, why would he scoff at such a sensitive subject?  
  
“Point me in the direction of whoever said that and I’ll beat him with my axe until I fix his eyesight!” Your chest began to flutter. There was something hidden in those sparkling eyes, his face wasn't smiling any longer...  
  
Your face flustered a deep shade of crimson. No one had ever said that to you before, why did Bofur insist on complimenting you so furiously? Warmth radiated throughout your chest and it ached. Bofur was so kind to you, so inquisitive about everything that you did through good nature. You regarded his actions with much admiration; all the Dwarves were kind to you, but your weakness was Bofur.  
  
You had no idea you were staring at him until he cleared his throat. “You okay, lass?” he grinned again. Oh cruel dwarf!  
  
You gulped. “Nope. Nothing the matter at all. Thank you...” you muttered, not making much sense.  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Bombur has been dishing up and handed Bilbo two bowls and asked him to find Fili and Kili, gladly he agreed. He watched over the other side of the fire...the way you looked at Bofur, the way he spoke to you... He needed to get some air, or at least get away from the sickening expressions you and Bofur cast one another.  
  
He thought you had looked at him that way when the Dwarves had forced him to bloody dance; his chest burned. You was truly beautiful. Why had he never taken much notice in the past? Oh he cursed himself for being a fool.  
  
Carrying the bowls in a frantic manner he soon found the two troublesome young Dwarves. They revealed that they had lost the Ponies; they searched for the source of the disappearance, and found light flickering beyond the rocks in a small opening.  
  
“Trolls!” Kili spat.  
  
Bilbo offered that they should do something but now he was being ushered into the clearing, following after one of the Trolls that just carried Myrtle and Mindy away!  
  
This business was becoming tiresome. Try as he might he couldn't find a way to free the ponies, until he saw something sharp sticking out from the Trolls belt... he crept over to it, trying to free it so he could cut the ropes... alas the Troll swooped him up and proceeded to poke him, exclaiming poor Bilbo had fallen out of its nose!  
  
Soon the Dwarves rushed in, with you following behind, you didn't have much in the way of a weapon, only a small dagger that one of the Dwarves had spared you, exclaiming they wanted it back when this nasty business was done. While the Dwarves fronted the attack, you crept behind the Trolls, stabbing at their thick skin and slashing as best you could. One of the Trolls lunged his dirty, big hands towards you... another troll picked up Bilbo, and two of them held his arms and legs.  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
“_Y/N_!” Bofur shouted, panicked and sweating, his axe ready and waiting, until Thorin on instruction of the Trolls laid down his arms.  
  
The whole night was of beastly business. Being put into sacks, half of the Dwarves tied to a wooden pole, rotating over a roaring fire.  
  
Bilbo had the magnificent idea to play for time. It was certainly a fantastic move, and sadly, the Dwarves didn't catch on all that fast... you understood what Bilbo was trying to say, so you jumped up too, tied in a sack, and wriggling around like a slug.  
  
“Yes, skin them! They taste awful if you don’t put some seasoning on their stripped flesh!” The Dwarves were screaming bloody murder at the two of you until something snapped in Thorin's mind when Bilbo mentioned parasites. By the Gods, Bilbo was smart!  
  
Gandalf, as he did best, showed up at the last possible second, looking majestic atop the rocks shouting in his bellowing voice “The dawn will take you all!”  
  
And the Trolls turned to stone.  
  
The Dwarves on the ground helped the ones tied to the wooden stick down, first having the sense to put out the fire.  
  
“Bilbo that was fantastic! Thank you!” You hugged him, and his shoulders went lax, you could feel a tension ease from them. He put a hand on the top of your back.  
  
“Anything to keep from being eaten by a Troll,” he jested. He released his light grip on you and stepped back. “You’re alright though, you’re not hurt?” he looked up and down for cuts or bruises.  
  
“No, no, I’m fine, I should be asking you the same thing! Are you okay?” He nodded a yes. There it was. That little glint in your eye that made him feel weak in the knees. Why was this happening to him?  
  
Plodding along after the company, now feeling safe albeit very tired, you ventured into a cave. It stank. A musty, awfully repugnant smell lingered in the air. The cave was full of cobwebs and unpleasant little bugs that made you squeak.  
  
Fili and Kili giggled at your antics, and Balin just offered you a reassuring “It’s alright lassie, they won’t bite you if you don’t step on them.” Avoiding the damn things you walked in a straight line behind Thorin. He scared you a little, but he was a large dwarf and offered a great barrier against you and everything frightful in the cave, although you weren't in a hurry to tell him that, or to tell him to shuffle to the right a bit to block you from the huge moth...  
  
You laughed merrily when some of the Dwarves began digging a hole and exclaimed that they were making a ‘long term despot’; that’s when you noticed her...  
  
A beautiful glint of silver from the pommel, a red gem embedded within the fine silver shape of a dragon, swirling around emerald green, intricately weaved leather that adorned the hilt. You reached down; none of the Dwarves regarded it for the Dragon on the pommel. Their interests were turned towards other weapons. It was as light as a feather, unsheathing the blade, it was long and thin, with old Elvish script engraved into the steel.  
  
Gandalf looked at you and nodded. “A fine blade, my dear. It suits you well.”  
  
A smirk tugged at your lips. You were now armed with a beautiful blade, but you knew not her name, nor what you would name her.  
  
You learned that she had no name. This is where you fell short of creativity...  
  
All you wanted was to go to sleep, and then another eccentric Wizard covered in bird excrement decided to make you all run for your lives, a pack of hungry Wargs and their riders hot on the company’s heels. You didn't need to be told twice, subconsciously you edged closer to Bofur.  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Rinvendell, it was the stuff of Bilbo’s dreams. More beautiful than he ever imagined with the flowing waterfall and the glimmering buildings that radiated the sunlight; this... this was a place Bilbo could call home.  
  
The Elves had accepted them into their midst, and offered them food, for which he was intensely grateful, he was hungry, and tired. He needed to catch up on the sleep he had been depraved of.  
  
Sitting around the table all the Dwarves were grumbling, this food would not sustain their appetite for meat or ale! They were given wine and salad! Even Bilbo was a little disappointed but he was too hungry to care, he wolfed down the leaves and bread, gulped down the wine and made for the bedroom he had been allocated... He didn't care at this point who he was to share a room with over the next few days!  
  
His head hurt, he has probably consumed the wine a little too quickly... Elvish wine was strong... he should have known, he kept some in his larder for special occasions... luckily the Dwarves hadn't touched it when they invaded his home.  
  
He staggered into his room, a little surprised to see you there, staring out into the world beyond, the dusk illuminating the new clothes that you were wearing. You looked ethereal, nothing at all like any of those nosy prattling Hobbits back home... no, you were different and he knew it.  
  
“Oh... Hello,” was all he managed before the booze had taken over his body entirely, doing the moving and talking for him. “I expected to not... see you here, wow, that looks... you look...” he breathed. “Amaze-eous, um, ha, amazing, gorgeous...” he saw your eyes go wide and then the world went black  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
You watched as Bilbo passed out... he did that too often for your liking, but you rushed to his side regardless, your emerald cloak catching the wind as you rushed to him, helping him up. You could smell the wine on his breath as he snoozed heavily. You dragged him over to his bed and heaved him up onto it, already exhausted.  
  
You rolled your eyes, but gave him a small peck on the forehead. “Thank you,” you muttered, before leaving him to snooze off his alcohol intoxication.  
  
Two compliments in twenty four hours, and yet you had never really received any before meeting these people. You wanted them around more often...


	3. Wings and Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well you needed to know how to survive the wild, your dress wasn't applicable to the terrain...

**Chapter Three  
  
Wings and Tales**  
  
Your eyes were fierce, and he could see you were serious about the question, your face expressing a strong desire.  
  
"Are you sure you want to lassie? Even teaching you, it will be painful." Bofur's eyebrows rose.  
  
"Yes! Teach me how to fight." It was a perfectly innocent proposition... Since you were on this quest with them, it would make sense to know how to defend yourself!  
  
"Aye, alright, that settles it then!" Bofur exclaimed, almost excited at the prospect of making you fall on your arse repeatedly.   
  
"You might regret this though... I can teach you the basics, but when you start to get better than me, which I highly doubt" he chuckled "then Fili and Kili can teach you how to master archery and advanced swordsmanship, I'm afraid my skill set is making toys and knocking teeth out with an axe, and a little more..."  
  
You finished breakfast in a hurry, excited and itching to use your new sword. Bilbo plopped himself down next to you with a huff, his arm extended out towards the tea pot, but it was too much effort. He dropped it lazily onto his lap.  
  
"A little hung over?" you teased. He shot you a glare, and then his face grew a deep shade of pink. He remembered what he said before he passed out.  
  
Everyone had admired your new outfit that morning — except Thorin, he couldn't care less if you were wearing an Elvish outfit or none, his face remained the same, bored — saying how lovely the material was, asking after how you had acquired it. You just tapped your nose mysteriously, billowing your cloak around you like the way a princess would hold her dress.  
  
Trying to disguise your Hobbit side, you even had custom shoes made. It was difficult to walk in them at first, the fabric and leather felt odd, but not being stabbed in the foot with needles from the earth was a god send, even if you had developed leathery soles naturally on your feet, it still hurt when something as sharp as a knife prodded you. And also, the cold stone floor in Rivendell no longer bothered you! Oh, shoes were fantastic, you wanted at least one hundred pairs all as elegant as each other in different designs!  
  
The tunic was a soft cream, and it fitted perfectly with a blac belt and a silver clasp, the pants were a light brown, with gold embroidery sewn into the fabric, stopping just a few inches above your ankles.  
  
"How did you come by it?" Bofur asked when the Dwarves had tired of watching you twirl like a giggling little girl.  
  
"Well at least one of us here can steal something without getting caught -" you elbowed Bilbo in the ribs who was now asleep and snoring at the table... he woke with a snort.  
  
"Hmm?" he asked through lolled eyes. You ruffled his hair. It was adorable the way he flushed and frowned like an angry child. "Stop it _Y/N_," he batted your hand away, snatching a bread roll off the table.  
  
"You still didn't answer my question," the toy maker stated.  
  
"Gold, my wonderful friend, it’s a pretty thing, shiny and... well - gold in colour. I took one coin from the Troll’s cave..." picking at the leaf in your hands and stuffing it into your mouth before scrunching up your face in distaste.  
  
"Ahh, that would explain why it is so finely and quickly made..." Bofur admired your courage to swipe a gold coin and pay Elves to do your bidding.  
  
"You were snoring like a chained Warg last night!" Your attention now turning to the grumpy Hobbit. Bilbo grunted, chewing the bread, and trying to avoid your gaze. Why was he being so damn rude?!  
  
"I’m not touching another drop of Elven wine for the rest of my days," he placed a hand on his forehead and grunted again... oh, it clicked in your mind... he had the mother of all headaches.  
  
"Well that may be very short coming!" you squeaked, Bilbo just gave you a soft glare. "So you’re not in the mood for learning how to spar?"  
  
"If he plans on fighting with bread sticks, I don’t think he can lift his arms, let alone a sword" Bofur jested.  
  
"Most definitely not. No," the male Hobbit grumbled, in agreement with the Dwarven toy maker. This disappointed you a little.  
  
"Will you at least come and watch me embarrass myself?" you pleaded, just wanting his company and to cheer his spirit a little.  
  
He sighed, "okay, but if the noise is too loud, I hope you won’t be offended if I excuse myself," he said, eyeing you cautiously. You shrugged. If he didn't want to join in that was fine, but it would be nice to have his company, after all... this journey was a very long and very dangerous one, you all needed to learn how to get along.  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Bofur watched the way you moved and it caused him to smirk, as many things did. You didn't have a clue! Oh, it would take more than a few days in Rivendell to even spark a glimmer of hope in you managing to untangle your feet from one another.  
  
"_Y/N_ maybe if you take of those ruddy shoes we might get somewhere, you’re obviously not very comfortable in them," you slashed the air, and your foot lunged forward, clumsily, your guard was exposed entirely.  
  
"No!" you barked, trying to parry his attack, but you fumbled forward again and tripped.  
  
"Oh for the love of Erabor, will you just take the damn things off lassie, I think their too small for your feet!" that hurt a little, and he knew it, but he had to be a little cruel to be kind, it was true. You huffed and sulked off into the corner for five minutes to take off your shoes and catch your breath.   
  
Dwalin and Bofur were now practising their swordsmanship with wooden sticks that the Elves had granted permission to use. He found your hardened gaze from the corner of his eye as he sparred with Dwalin. He felt awful for hurting your feelings regarding the shoes, a pang of jealousy now resonating in his gut as you smiled at Bilbo, ruffling his hair again, making the hobbit laugh.  
  
Damn, you were trouble and he knew it...  
  
Dwalin knocked him off his feet easily. He showed Bofur some mercy by helping him up with a firm hand, and pulled the toymaker close enough for him to whisper.   
  
"Don’t be foolish Bofur, aye she is a pretty little thing, but don’t attach yourself too strongly..." Bofur was about to interject but Dwalin just pushed him back with a sly grin, throwing the sparring stick at him and resuming a fighting stance.  
  
Bofur never took the advice of his friends, and he wasn't about to start now...  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
Oh his head stung and the sharp snapping sound of sticks whacking each other did nothing to soothe the drumming in his head, it only upped the tempo. You sat beside him and even that wasn't helping to calm his headache. His mind started to drift and that just made things worse! He began massaging his temples. He opened his eyes to find you staring at him, your eyebrows knitted together in a frown.  
  
"Uh — something wrong, _Y/N_?" he asked, his eyes darting to-and-fro, anywhere but meeting your gaze, you made him feel nervous at the best of times.  
  
"Err, no, it’s just..." oh no, there was something wrong... his head throbbed a little again in protest of his mind thinking more than three things at once.   
  
"Well, I... Bilbo, do you even remember me? I know you know of me, but do you not remember when we played in the woods that day as children, using twigs for swords? When my mother found us and scolded me?"  
  
He did. He didn't even know your name that day; he learned it many years later while your mother visited his household to talk to Belladonna, trying to marry off one of her daughters. His mother wasn't having any of it, Bilbo was still fairly young, but old enough to be wed.  
  
His mother shooed yours out of the door laughing. Calling two of her daughters -your evil sisters- ‘fowl mannered,’ and saying the only decent one was the one that ‘still danced in the puddles after a rainstorm’... he must have phased out for a little while, because when he returned to the present his head gave another almighty pulse and you were still hovering close to him, staring intently.  
  
"Yes. Yes I remember that day very, very clearly." he grinned, continuing.   
  
"You cut your foot on a branch, but you didn't cry, you just dragged me to hunt for healing leaves..." he began to laugh, "And you picked up the wrong type, you picked up stinging nettles, I tried to tell you not to use them but you were stubborn!"   
  
Oh he didn't care that his head hurt, his sides were beginning to hurt more as his chuckle grew, "your foot had swollen to the size of Old Fido Proudfoot's feet!" it was too much, he was laughing loudly now... your eyes were wide and you began to break out into a laugh too! Oh it was music to Bilbo’s ears.  
  
"Oh my gods, when my mother found me, she blamed you! Oh I couldn't walk for a week!"  
  
"Yes, but you still insisted that the leaf was sucking the pain out of your leg that’s why it hurt!"  
  
All eyes were on the two of you, but neither of you cared to pay attention to them.  
  
"Oh dear, I do believe I made a complete fool of myself that day-" your laughter died a little and so did his.  
  
"Oh, I don’t think you did, besides my Took family, you’re probably the most normal Hobbit I've ever met..." the harsh laughter died into giggles. He truly did remember!  
  
"Why were we playing out in the woods again?" he feared you were testing him. He stopped laughing, still smiling broadly and looking towards the ceiling, pulling his feet into his body.  
  
"Old Took told us stories about a Dragon, and we were the only ones who believed him... we went to go and find it." He recalled softly.   
  
"If only he could see us now" he whispered.  
  
"Could you imagine?" you giggled. "He’d probably call us liars!" Bilbo grinned wildly at the thought.   
  
"Yes, yes he would..."  
  
 **~POV~**  
  
You stood up, your shoes now removed and your mind clear. Bilbo nodded to you, now daydreaming fondly of his past, and presumably his Hobbit hole.  
  
"Right. Let’s see who has clumsy feet now!" you pointed your sparring stick at Bofur. Dwalin backed away from him, laughing.  
  
"He’s all yours" the tall dwarf elbowed Bofur forward. Your heart leaped a little at that statement, was there something behind it?  
  
"Aye, it will still be you, but you can try and not fall over, at least that would be a start, m’dear!" You lunged, and he wasn't expecting it.   
  
Retaining everything he told you about footwork, you pushed it to the back of your mind, trying not to focus too hard on your feet, and thus losing control of your arms.   
  
One foot forward into a right stance, and the back foot shuffling, you had the attack on this one!   
  
Your legs dropped lower and your shoulders rolled back... one, two, one, two. You kept the rhythm going...  
  
"Steady on!" Bofur shouted with a laugh, barely able to believe this sudden shift; you blocked his attacks with the stick, parrying through the centre, keeping your body a small target as your attacking arm stayed forward, your loose arm away from Bofur.  
  
"Not a chance!" you swirled, and Bofur was in awe. His concentration had depleted.   
  
How could you have increased your skill so marginally by just taking off your bloody shoes?! You used the weight on your back foot to spin and bringing up your loose hand, you spun into block; Bofur staggered downward with the stick onto your block as you pushed both sticks up, rolling his away from him.   
  
Bofur growled low and raised his spare hand to the stick, he saw a small opening in your attack, and took it.   
  
Your front foot wasn't angled right, and he used his leg to kick it out from under you, you crashed into him, knocking him backwards onto the floor but you still stood!  
  
Your hands still gripped to your stick, you pointed it at his throat, and all the Dwarves in the room cheered, even Bilbo was staring wide eyed, and began to cheer!  
  
Balin shouted "_Y/N_ wins!"  
  
Oh, it felt wonderful to receive their praise and approval.  
  
"I do believe that it is you on your arse this time, ‘m’dear’." Bofur released a slow and husky laugh.  
  
"Where on this earth did you learn that?!" Bofur demanded, taking your hand as you offered it to help him up.  
  
"About five minutes ago, watching Dwalin, you shouldn't have made me take off my shoes," you teased, it was half true; you watched Dwalin do something similar, taking in every detail of the move you tried to replicate it to your own advantage, and it worked, well, it may not have if Bofur didn't try and best you but hindering himself in the process.   
  
You left out the part where you had asked a very tall and very gracious elf maiden to demonstrate the tailoring of your outfit the day before, mimicking her movements as best you could —but not half as elegantly — you had used the time Bilbo was asleep to practice the move in your room, and mixed the movements together.   
  
This, you decided would be a signature move. And that is where the name was born for your blade —  
  
Harmony.  
  
Flightless Harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how else are you going to survive this journey if you're not taught how to fight. Just wanted a bit of fun and development on this one, hoorah! Now please comment / lack of indicates you want Gollum smut?!


	4. Cliff faces and Long Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the cliff and under the mountain you go!  
> This is getting tough isn't it? I don't even think there is a love triangle here, just a big sloppy mess of emotions and feels.  
> I promise I'll make it more clear soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter, but I''m going away for a few days sadly I won't have internet access but I will have my laptop for games and whatever, so I'll continue writing and come Tuesday, you'll probably have three or four more chapters.  
> Let's gear up for the new movie! (Although admittedly, because of Peter Jackson's bloody spin on everything I'm not sure what direction the film will go in... so I'll have to do educated guess work based on trailers and my knowledge of the books!)

**Chapter Four**

**Cliff Faces and Long Goodbyes**

You had all bid a very quick farewell to Rivendell. Well, a secret council was summoned and Gandalf had thrown the company a very solemn look, advising that they make haste. But you all soon wished for sanctuary when the misty mountains came into view; menacing and cold, the winds picked up and began stinging your face, the company just took it in their stride and carried on forward, their feet ever marching onward. As everyone reached the foot of the mountain, they set up a camp, and you helped the best you could.

After the camp had been erected, the group sat down to eat; the Dwarves had restocked at Rivendell. You admittedly missed your temporary accommodation with the Dwarves, even if it meant sharing with Bilbo who was very fussy. The two of you had gotten a little better acquainted in the week stopped there, talking –almost, on your part, while he remained animated about his love - of home. Dinner was washed down with a cup of mead, the Dwarves began a merry song about the mountains, and singing fondly of Khazad-dûm, and Moria, and their Dwarven brothers under the mountains pass. It lifted their spirits for travelling onto the next leg of the journey.

Fili and Kili dragged you up to resume your weapons practice. They were very fond of your determination to help the company, and also any excuse to show off to a pretty lady their skills!

"Come on _Y/N_, imagine someone has insulted you, who do you really hate?" You didn't answer that at first, but you began slashing and slicing angrily, thinking back to the day your mother bought your vile sisters both new outfits to attend the Midsummer festival, and you were told that you weren't to go because you were an embarrassment. But you snuck out and scaled a tree to watch the fireworks.

"I don't know who made you this angry, but I certainly won't cross you!" Kili joked.

They noted that during the first few days of your fighting lessons, you sucked at archery, you were even worse at knife throwing, and you couldn't even lift an axe, so a light blade was perfect, you had advanced quickly –without shoes- to practicing with Harmony. She was a perfect blade, the weight, the length, the flow; she became an extension to your arm. Bilbo was a little jealous, so he joined in with his sword on occasion, grasping the basics of swing, footwork and body placement.

You often relayed what you had learned from Fili and Kili to Bilbo so that he could better understand. The young brothers often had a tendency to be less helpful to Bilbo, and pay their attention to you.

You didn't mind being waited on hand and foot by two young and very pretty Dwarves, but you preferred them to help Bilbo as he was their prize burglar.

The time had come to climb the mountain face, scaling it in good time; you stayed close to Bofur and Bilbo, enjoying their company, Fili, Kili and Thorin leading the party onward.

~

It happened in slow motion, one minute you were there, right beside him, and the next you were gone. Bilbo’s eyes darted frantically, where the hell did you go? His heart quickened, and then he saw the hand on the ledge; Bofur shouted to the others to stop, before lunging towards the end of the cliff. No, Bilbo couldn't stand back and do nothing and that it precisely what he didn't do, valiantly, the Hobbit dropped to his knees, grabbing your arm and commanding Bofur to grab his legs.

The cold wind sliced at his face, and at his hands, but the warms of your hand, your life in his hands, he would not let you fall!

Now Bofur had a hold of his legs, he maneuvered his upper half over the cliff, pressing his torso down on your arm to keep it there, still holding it with his hand.  
“Grab my hand _Y/N_!” he screamed over the edge of the cliff.

You took it, and finally, with the support you were fumbling for before, you used your shoes to grab purchase on a ledge, and then your other foot to rest on another rock, slowly you eased yourself up, Bilbo never letting his firm grasp on your hands go and he pulled you over the edge back to safety.

~

Your heart was in your stomach, but you remained calm, you heard Bofur call out to the other Dwarves and Bilbo appeared over the cliff face, helping you up.

You didn't waste any time, everyone’s eyes were on you. You shook Bilbo's hand away from yours, he was still lightly holding yours.

“Right, well, that was unfortunate! Glad to be in one piece, thank you Bilbo!” you brushed his arm lightly. He truly was a valiant soul, he had just saved your life, and there was no way for you to repay him. You felt a surge of guilt, you were reckless, and you leaned over the edge to see how far you had climbed up only for the ledge to groan in protest and gave way! For the rest of the day you avoided Bilbo’s concerned stares, putting on a brave face to mask your feeling of guilt and insolence, you could have just cost more than your own life.

Thorin grumbled as the group had slowed, but nodded as you gave him a wry smile, nervously shuffling your feet forward to signal them onward, you were fine.  
The rain turned to sleet, and the sleet turned to snow, the cold was burning your skin with a cold sting, and the climb became deathly, but Thorn insisted you would all thank him when you reached the end of this journey. Bilbo moaned and groaned about the state of his empty stomach, and after a while so did you Hobbit side... No elevenses... just ridiculous!

“How much longer?” you whined.

“Not long now lass, aye there should be some caves nearby” Bofur tried to ease your suffering a little, “then we can get some rest and a bite to eat.” Your eyes beamed at him at the mention of food!

Then everything turned sour.

Stone Giants! Oh the site was chilling to the core, and even more frightening when you realised you were on one, his leg swaying in protest and propping up his sheer weight and size. Admittedly you were rooting for the guy to kick the arse of the one throwing rocks and punches, but sadly he didn't avail in his battle; his head was knocked clean off and his leg came crashing into the rocks.

You were terrified to the point of paralysis as you stared the rocks jagged edges, time ticked by very, very slowly. You didn't notice it, you were facing certain death, but two arms forced you back, both belonging to different owners... their bodies next to yours, eyes just as wide and most likely just as scared for the end...  
As the Stone Giant’s knee crashed against the cliff edge the angle fell awkward, just enough for you all to miss impending doom to be jolted off into a small opening.

You momentarily passed out...

When you awoke, Bilbo was being hauled up over the cliff, Thorin almost slipping from his daring rescue. As Bilbo appeared over the cliff, Bofur helped him up and you rushed to Bilbo’s side, checking for wounds and making sure he was okay. You made a fuss of him but his face didn't register anything you were doing.

“Bilbo?” you swiped a hand in front of his face, still nothing... he gulped and looked towards his savior. Thorin wasn't pleased, not in the least bit remorseful that Bilbo had almost lost life or limb.

"They have been lost ever since they left home. Neither should never have come... they have no place amongst us!” Thorin growled, dropping you both a low glare and ushering the company into a small cave in the rock face.

You glanced at Bilbo who seemed to swallow again, a hard lump forming in his throat.

“I thought you were brave!” you offered Bilbo, Bofur and Ori stayed behind with the two of you, helping you both onto your feet.

The look warped onto Bilbo’s face was that of a heavy disappointment, your chest gave a little sting looking at him. He avoided your gaze entirely as he stalked into the cave after everyone, something heavy on his mind.

~

Thorin was right and he knew it, he was a coward and a burden on the group. All he wanted was their approval and to help but he felt as if he hindered them.

The group ate in a somber silence that night, trying to settle down to sleep and continue on at dawn across these treacherous mountains. Bilbo hated this journey, and he would hate himself for abandoning the group, but they would do just fine without him. When the Dwarves were asleep, he had made up his mind that he was to abandon the quest to keep from distracting their efforts further.

He stared into the small fire, and into your eyes as you too, stared gingerly at the flame, a little spark and sass gone from your former self.

He made up his mind; he wanted you to go with him. He would ask you to venture to Rivendell.

“Eat something lass, you need your strength” Bofur handed you a piece of bread, and you smiled at him – oh heavens, that smile. It made Bilbo’s head spin. It made his stomach tighten. It made him hurt when he wasn't the one to make you smile...

Thought of asking you to come back to Rivendell began to fade as he watched the two of you, stealing glances whenever he could. His heart sank.

That night Bilbo got to his feet, full of determination to leave this place.

Bofur wasn't asleep, he was watching over the group proudly, making sure his brother and cousin were okay as well as his King... Bilbo heard him shuffle, and he mentally cursed. He enjoyed this particular Dwarves Company, more so than others, but he was hoping he could slip away seamlessly.

“Where do you think you're going?” Bofur asked curiously.

“Back to Rivendell...” Bilbo retorted.

“No... No. You can't turn back now. You're part of the company. You're one of us!” Bofur's voice raised a little, stirring a few Dwarves, but they all returned to their slumber momentarily.

“I'm not now, am I? Thorin said I should have never have come and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door...” Bilbo looked pained but determined.

“You're homesick. I understand, but _Y/N_ is a hobbit to, she's more than happy to stay with us...” Bofur whispered trying to make sense of Bilbo’s decision.

“No you don't. You don't understand. None of you do. _Y/N_ is far braver than I ever was and far more inquisitive to the world she lives in” he began “You're Dwarves... You're use to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!” Bilbo let it slip without thinking what he had said. He looked at the pain on Bofur's face. “I'm sorry, I didn't...”

“No you're right.” Bofur interjected, sparing Bilbo an apology. “We don't belong anywhere... I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do” the toy maker lightly patted the Hobbit's arm, signalling that he took no offense.

“Take care of her...” the pain radiated from Bilbo's face, he bit down hard on his tongue to stop from welling up. He couldn't bear to say goodbye to you. To hear your pleas for him to stay...

“Bilbo I...” Bofur closed his mouth, then opened it again, close it and toyed with the idea of what to say, finally he spoke “I will. She’ll be devastated if you go Bilbo...”

Little did either of them know, you were awake... you heard every, single, word. And it felt cold and sharp in your chest. Bilbo was going to leave, to abandon his duty, the quest, the Dwarves and you!

You gritted your teeth, about to rise, speak and hit him with whatever you could find and knock sense into him.

The floor gave an almighty **crack!**

And you were all plunged into the horrors of the Goblin Kingdom!


	5. Trinkets and Frying Pans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts and Witches, gift givers and Goblins! My oh my!

**Chapter Five:**

**Trinkets and Frying Pans**

Everything happened so fast, the company fell in through a trap door and down... rapidly into the Kingdom of horror below where the Goblins dwelt.

The Goblins took Thorin and the other 12 Dwarves prisoner, you and Bilbo managed to slip away but you lost him when you went into a dark tunnel and couldn't find your way back out again...

You sat for the best part of an hour until you could hear water drip, safe in the knowledge that the Goblins had gone and were now occupied and dealing with the intruders they had managed to capture.

It was in this dark passage you found your own horror...

A stairwell, long forgotten and abandoned, you followed it down; it seemed to go on forever and an eternity until you reached the bottom.  
It was there that he sat; hair flowing around him like a drowning creature’s would, billowing in the non existent breeze... everything about the figure translucent, even his flesh.

“Come here, child” its old, rasped voice called, and you obeyed. Wanting to run, run back up the stairs and help your friends, however possible, there were no answers down here. Not that you could imagine.

_However..._

You motioned closer to the creature.

“I am blind in my exile, but I see you, yes. You’re not like these soulless creatures that bash and bang about upstairs with their ludicrous drumming!” something harmless radiated from this fearsome person.

You motioned around the form to stand in front, behold his features – oh what a sorrowful sight! Cheekbones sunken into a hollow face, eyes that had sunken back into their sockets, shrinking away from everything; it was a man, you had earlier assumed by the voice, but his face confirmed it... Or at least he wasn't a mortal man, and maybe not one of this world, for he had no pointed ears, and Elves did not grow old in this way...

“You radiate light, my child. I am old, I am weak. And I am very.... so very tired.” He drew out a very long sigh into the darkness the only light glowing from his figure. His hair flopped down with the droop of his shoulders. 

“Who... who are you?” you gasped, finally grasping a feel for reality, trying not to push yourself back into the darkness of your mind or this damp, hollow room deep below the mountain.

“Hmm, who am I? Who are you?” He shrieked, his head darting left and right, if he were to rotate his head any quicker, it would most likely fall off! “Oh!” He suddenly shouted, as if remembering what he came into the room for after staring vacantly for a while... “I am Melnor, but do not be afraid, I mean you no harm, for harming you would do me more damage!” he laughed, his laughter turned into a choke, and you wondered if he was going to keel over dead!

“Are you okay?” you asked him, taking a step forward. He held a hand up to you, to stop you from coming any closer. You did as you were told. “I won’t hurt you either...” you echoed softly. He was just a very feeble old man.

He chuckled softly. “I know you won’t, _Y/N_” you raised an eyebrow at the first part of his statement and suddenly your face froze as he spoke your name. “Do you know...” he continued “You’re the first person in over 6000 years to ask me if I’m okay?!” his face became softer somehow, through all that emptiness.

“I uh- It’s my nature, I guess, but genuinely, are you well?” his hand dropped to his lap lazily and you took another few steps closer, until you were by his side. “Melnor” you asked, as he didn't reply.

“Hmm?” It almost looked as if he had fallen to sleep. He coughed. “Oh, oh yes!” he laughed once more, thankfully he didn't turn into a coughing mess this time. “I sit here, day and night, century and Millennia, but the Gods won’t grant me death. Not yet. It seems I have done something to anger them in past years, and now... well...” he snored. You cleared your throat and he roused again...“Oh! Well, they have forgotten me.” He finished.

“Can I help you out of this hell?” You looked for answers in those shrunken eyes, but there was no expression held there. His mouth was held open and he gaped.

“No. No my child. I will sit here and rot for another 6000 years if the Gods and Goddesses wish it.”

“There must be something I can do?” No answer came from him. “Hello, Melnor?”

“Ha!” he shouted, making you jump. “No, no there isn't anything you can do to help me out of here. But, I must tell you, the quest you embark upon is of grave...” he nodded once more, and you poked him gently. “Grave importance!” he bellowed. “I knew one day a gentle soul would find me. I grow tired of rude creatures and ill mannered men.  
Elves of nobility seeking my magic and Dwarves trying to lay claim treasure I have no knowledge of!” Melnor scoffed loudly. “You!” he pointed a bony finger towards you and you jumped again. This man’s voice was frightful and erratic! “Yes...” the old man began contemplating something. “You’re very different. Even from your own kind, swift and kind Hobbit” he nodded.

“Thank you, Melnor, but I don’t see what use I can be to you if you won’t allow me to help you out of this place; my friends and I can help you”

“There you are see! ‘My friends and I’, you put everyone before yourself because you’re too afraid to hurt anybody!” he scoffed again, wrapping his cloak around him as if to keep warm and shield himself. “You are an important one, a small light in this world that will shine bright, when the time comes” his demeanour grew gentle once more. And you breathed a sigh of relief. You didn't intend to offend the poor man.

“I have something for you!” he gasped and made for his back pocket, pulling out a cloth that contained something wrapped inside. “You will wear this, and when the time is right, you will use it, for good!”

You didn't dare look at what was inside the package, but his face stared eerily at you, he may have been blind, but he saw the world, probably better than any high elf.

You opened the cloth to reveal a beautifully decorated pendant. It was gold, with a strange pattern engraved into the coin of the amulet; right in the center gleamed a beautiful red gem, identical to the one that was embedded in the eye of the dragon on the pommel of your sword!

“Take it my dear, not just as a gift, but as a helping hand... the damn thing has been a curse to me, but I used it for the wrong reason...” your heart sank. Were you to become like this man if you used it in the incorrect fashion?! He chuckled softly. Melnor cupped your hands, his fingers as cold as winter snow. “No, you will not become like me, my magic made this, and my magic is the thing that leaves me lingering in this world” Was he a Wizard? No, he couldn't be... then a Witch perhaps? He just simply nodded, and you knew he was reading your mind... “I’m not that kind of Witch, child, we were once gentle but still a force to be reckoned with, once upon a time, just as you are!" You could tell he grew exhausted.

This certainly was an unexpected and strange event to occur, but you didn't once question it.

“Are you sure you won’t come with me?” you almost pleaded, looking sorrowful at the old, withering man.

“No! No... I’m just fine.” He retorted. Laughing once more, softly this time. “If I ever was...”

“Thank you, for the gift, it is very beautiful. I hope I know how to use it and when the time is right” he simply nodded.

“You will know-“ he trailed off, his voice becoming distant. You assumed he had just fallen asleep once more.

“_Y/N_!” he called after you. Silence fell as you awaited his continuance.

“Yes?” you asked through a soft monotone.

“His intentions will be good in the end, but the decision will be yours. Your loyalty to your friends may just become your undoing, child...” he trailed off and began to snore. You waited for him to wake up with another snort, and he did, much to your relief. He may have claimed to have another 6000 years in the life bank, but you were certain at any moment he was about to snuff it... so to speak.

“Ah! Crows!” Melnor screeched, batting away invisible entities from the air, now full of life once more. 6000 years of living under a Goblin cave would most likely do that to any perfectly sane individual... “Anyway, carry on!” he stated, after the crows had allegedly vanished. “One more thing!” he shouted after you. “Your heart wants too much, girl. One the other, it’s full of black holes and secrets! If you ask after me again with that charm, make sure that your emotions are cleaner, or at least clearer... you will hurt one or the other, it’s inevitable! That Pendant will save your sanity more than once”

Your demeanour changed entirely, a slow ache forming in your chest as the heart restricted its beating rhythm.

“I’d rather hurt myself than anybody else” you protested.

“Then you will hurt them both!” he shouted. “Go, now, choose, loose, and when you’re done and you reside on the city afloat, everything will reveal itself!” he started laughing... this was perhaps the strangest thing that you had ever witnessed in your life, the most peculiar man you had ever met in every single way, and yet you still had a pang in your heart when you began to run back up the long stairwell, back up to the top where the devils were probably doing awful things to your companions.  
Taking the steps two at a time, you reached the peak quicker than anticipated, kneeling behind solid rocks to conceal yourself. Your body growing lighter and lighter eith each step, your mind less clouded, until you moved in a trance like state. 

“Sick of these stinkin’ late night patrols, why don’ts we gets to have any fun?!” a goblin spat, one to another. Your eyes darted all over... this was it. The time you would have to take a life in order to save your friends.

One never forgets the first kill they make. The sound of bone breaking, flesh tearing, blood curling and spraying hitting the floor like the emptying of a bucket of water. You tried not to think of it, cutting the other one down in the same swift and circular breeze.

Running through the passage ways and through tunnels wide and small, you found a purchase spot to look onward above the opening under the mountain. The group were all confined, held as prisoner by Goblins of different sizes.

It all happened in such haste; there was a flash of blinding white light and a deep, commanding voice telling the Dwarves to take up their arms against the Goblin King and his minions. The battle was fierce and the Dwarves began to flee over the wooden bridges that laced the walls under the mountain. You scaled the tunnels again, running parallel to the company, eventually bursting out of a tunnel that lead onto a platform.

Don’t stop. Just breathe. Worry later. You kept these things in mind as you cut down the goblins threatening to rip apart your friends.

“_Y/N_!” half of them cheered as they rounded a corner and beheld your form as you slaughtered the goblins that were oncoming in their direction.

You would have held off that platform until they had passed if Thorin didn’t grab you and force you to run in the same direction as the rest of them.

“Come with us!” he growled, but not out of anger, you could detect a hint of caution in his voice.

All of a sudden the bridges at the side veered onto a bridge that hovered over the hollow of the mountain, nowhere to run!

Gandalf cut the Goblin king down in a flash f his sword, and the bridge began to tumble, down into the abyss, into a darker crevice of the mountain. Everyone held onto the platform as it collapsed. Heart in mouth as the chunk of the bridge that was falling maintained its structural integrity right the way to the very bottom.

~

Daylight at the end of the tunnel; at this point it was a heavenly sight, even if the intensity burned, Goblins hot on their tails they just broke free of the mountain, the Goblins screeching in the tunnels, too afraid to burst out until night had fallen. They were screaming bloody murder, in defeat they retreated.  
Victory was theirs!

Or at least... a small form of victory, for the burglar had vanished. He had slipped away when the trap door opened; he hit the floor and crawled away...

Bofur was disappointed, he expected more from the Hobbit... much more, he saw the potential in him, none of these Dwarves bar a few were true warriors, but they were learning fast, Bilbo just needed encouragement... he was already steady with the Elven blade he had found, just as much so as you had become...

The way you defended the bridge, cutting down foes with ease, Bofur never doubted that you had vanished, not for a second. You truly were one of them; you, Bilbo and he were outcasts in the group most days, but you all found your own comfort in each other’s company. Even if Bilbo harbored deep feelings for you as did the dwarf, he wouldn't let something like that come between friendship and true loyalty. You had a heart and a mind of your own.

“You were truly unbelievable back there...” he whispered, snapping your attention away from the wilderness. Your face softened. He wanted so badly just to place a hand on your face, to caress your cheek and tell you how entirely grateful he was to the gods that you were still alive and still with them. Still with him.

It happened and he didn't mean for it, he was so lost for concentration, abandoned by all that wit and charm he possessed, momentarily. The actions of his mind became apparent as he touched your face. Your eyes went wide. Your face drained of colour.

It was lucky no one was looking, no-one but Bofur's brother, Bombur.

He snapped it back when he heard Bilbo’s voice...

The toy maker pulled his hand away, and took a small step backwards; his eyes averting your intent stare entirely. His chest felt tight. Everything in him screamed in protest... don’t pull away, I don’t care who sees, I need to tell her. I need to erase this uncertainty.

He found his brother’s gaze. Bombur looked so concerned for his brother. The pain on his face was something the rotund Dwarf had never known. He approached Bofur and placed a hand gently atop his arm.

“She will, if she doesn't already...” he whispered. Bofur gave a tiny smile in reply to his brother. Nothing like his usual glinting beam of delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a few days, I have been away but I'm with internet access right now *Joyful dance*  
> I'm having to brush up on my memory of the books now. Or I could just wait for the film... But I don't want to keep my readers waiting! Because this story is following the filmverse more than anything... (Not intended I swear but aren't the cast dreamy?!)  
> Let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you everyone for your reviews and comments, I have made a decision on you, Rea-chan. *Winks*
> 
> What do you think about Melnor? (Not to be confused with Melkor or Morgoth, obviously xD)


	6. Brave Little Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valiant Hobbits and defying Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I wanted to put many feeeels into this chapter.  
> I suppose it's becoming a little more obvious who the reader wants.  
> Next chapter... well. *Winky face*  
> PS: HAPPY FIRST OF DECEMBER, ONLY 12 MORE DAYS UNTIL THE HOBBIT DESOLATION OF SMAUG.  
> (22 more days for me, I'm seeing it on my birthday *sulk*)  
> Oh by the way, some of you may have noticed the change on the title listing... I made up my mind finally on which direction we were headed in!

**Chapter Six**

**Brave little Soldiers.**

The trees were ablaze, magnificent to behold, if you weren’t perched atop of one, clinging on for dear life, a pack of hungry Wargs 30 feet below and their angry riders shouting fierce threats lead by Azog, the ugliest foulest and most gruesome Orc that ever was.

“Thorin, no!” you screamed after him, the Dwarves all twisted their heads, no longer caring for the thousand feet of empty air below them, their King was in grave danger!

They all shouted after him, but Thorin’s resolve was already decided, he wanted to end Azog’s terrible reign.

You managed a grip in the tree you were in, your limbs loosening enough for you to lift a leg onto a branch and anchor yourself up, Bilbo was almost up too from his branch.

You watched in absolute horror as Thorin was struck to the ground, thrown around like a dog’s play toy. Everything in you became a simple set of tasks. Get up. You lifted yourself up. Lift your sword. Harmony was raised to your side. Run. Your legs carried you forward. Lunge for the bastard! You swung, screaming, Bilbo was already there looming over Thorin’s limp body, standing between the Dwarf King and the Defiler.

Bilbo swung for Azog’s Warg, standing defensive against any onslaught against Thorin that Azog tried to unleash and you cut through Azog’s right hand guard, leaping through the air with grace, he was thrown dead from his Warg which thrashed violently, your reflexes snapped, and you swung for that too, you missed by inches, and the beastly hound was upon you, clamping down on your arm. Bilbo heard your scream and thrust Sting into its eyes. The hound let out a horrendous cry of pain before succumbing to the darkness, its teeth still fiercely embedded into your arm.

Then they arrived.

Beautiful and majestic creatures, the Eagles!

Bilbo tried frantically to lift the Warg’s teeth from your flesh. He decided to slice through the tooth and deal with the situation after you were free.

The eagle took you in its grasp, its talons encircling your agony wracked body. The world turned black...

~

Your scream, it shook the hobbit to his core, the agony twisted onto your face, it made him feel sick. That fowl creature needed to pay. Bilbo didn’t think, he just acted, pushing all that cowardice down when he saw Thorin thrown to the ground, adrenaline still coursing through him, and then a feral anger. He had no idea this side of him lay dormant. Given a different circumstance, he may have grown to like the gallant feeling that washed through him. 

Perched atop the glorious eagle, he looked back and forward, from a seemingly fatally wounded King to you who grew paler each passing second. He felt sick to his core, a void beginning to form in his soul as he considered the prospect of losing either of his friends.

~

Tears flowed, slowly; he couldn’t blink them back or focus on anything else. His King could be dead, and the Hobbit he loved could also follow suit. She needed medicine, the herbs that had been lost in the Goblin Kingdom...

He felt helpless, angry and insolent; he wanted to cry out to them both, tell them both to wake up. All around him the company was in despair; Fili and Kili were shouting Thorin hoping to get a response from their unconscious uncle. Nothing, Not even a twitch of his limbs. Could he be?

“_Y/N_!” he finally let out. She was pale, and covered in a cold sweat. “Thorin!” he shouted to his King. Neither of them would hear his cries.

The Eagles could go no further, they regretted leaving the Dwarves in such a bad state, but they could do nothing, one swooped down low into the forest, and dropped a blue moss on the ledge of the cliff they perched everyone onto.

Bofur thanked the one that collected the moss, running over to you in an instant and tearing the fabric of your tunic so your arm was exposed. He chewed the moss, until the herb was almost like a paste; the wound was grim, and deep. He couldn’t deny that this could mean amputation. He had seen it in the mines, Dwarves arms crushed or scathed deep by rocks, accidents with axes and tools this deep usually meant a serious decision had to be made.

Thorin roused, Gandalf made a low mutter, passing a hand over Thorin’s face. A part of Bofur was relieved and glad, but the other half of his desperation now clung to you doing the same.

“Wake up...” Bofur whispered. That’s when he noticed it... the gem, glowing red, brighter and brighter still, hanging loosely from your throat. A red vein of light pulsing down your neck under your tunic and into the wound, it began to heal... slowly the wound became less and less ugly. He couldn’t believe it, Hobbit’s didn’t poses magic?!

~

You inhaled deeply, your eyes flung open and you bolted upright, headbutting the poor, curious Dwarf whose face loomed above you.

“Owch!” he darted back, holding his nose, now pouring with blood. You watched, mortified as he bunched the bridge of his wounded nose.  “Glad to see you’re awake” he breathed sounding relieved, but funny through his thick accent and pinched nasal passage.

“Oh, heavens I’m so sorry Bofur!” you fumbled at the end of your cloak, patting the blood away with it. “Why were you hovering over me? Did I die?! You didn’t –“ you flushed bright red! Oh that delicious thought crossed your mind in a flash.

“Oh Aye lass, you were as dead as a doornail. It took more than a little mouth to mouth!” he motioned towards your ripped tunic. You flushed brighter. That beautiful smile was back and the glimmer returned to his deep brown eyes.

“He couldn’t bottle up the nerve to do it whilst you were alive” Kili teased, and Fili howled with laughter. Even Thorin was in high spirit and began laughing.

The King crouched down next to you.

“Hobbit, you were valiant. It is only fitting I show you the same courtesy as I have done Bilbo” By the God’s beard, Thorin held you in a strong –very unexpected- hug.

“Thank you” he spoke softly. You patted his back, overjoyed at his approval and gratitude.

“I owe you both my life, I am truly sorry for what I said before, to the both of you...” his face seemed younger somehow –as if years of anger had melted away in an instant –

“No, you don’t need to be sorry for what you said, Hobbits aren’t meant for the dangers of this world, we have been sheltered and hidden away for far too long. I want to thank you for allowing me some responsibility in this quest, the chance to see what lay beyond my land.”

You felt a speech coming on, you addressed the rest of the Dwarves, Bilbo and even Gandalf. “You have all done more for me in this short while than anyone did for me in my life; you have taught me so much. Things I never knew existed within me. Truly, thank you.”

The Dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf beheld you with warm and friendly faces.

“It is an honour” Thorin nodded very low, the rest of the Dwarves patted you on the back and said a small thank you, half of them now growing shy.

And it was when he looked at you... your chest fluttered with excitement. Bilbo acknowledged you at that moment with concern in his eyes and a beautiful glint in those deep blue eyes. He saw the wound the Warg had inflicted, and yet there you stood. The only Dwarf knowing the event of your cure was Bofur, even you had no idea how the warm sensation the stinging and then the feel of relief subsided entirely until you were left simply as you, but you suspected the amulet had a large part in the process.

Bilbo stared intently. As the Dwarves rounded up their things, patting you and him on the back again, he approached you.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been quicker...” he began. Your smile warmed him.

“Don’t even let it worry you. You saved my life and Thorin's, I am forever grateful to you. I can’t say I can ever find a way to repay you, I hope your life is never in danger!” You bravely took his hand and gave it a small squeeze. His skin was hot to touch against yours; it sent a shudder coursing through your entire body. He sent a glance to your hand in his, then back to your eyes.

“I hope so too, but I’d give anything to make sure you were safe, my life included” he offered you softly.

Your heart throbbed, that painful and yet beautiful feeling when someone says, or does something that sends you soaring high. You could have sworn the golden amulet around your neck grew warmer against your skin...


	7. Friends of sorts and no way with words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Soft chapter which spills no secrets or direction yet, but read from it what you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHANCE TO VOTE. The scores are currently in Bofur's favour 4/3 as I've posted this on another site (GotVg)  
> I'm sorry if this chapter sucks, I needed a filler for the time being while I work on the Mirkwood and Lake town finale!  
> You're looking at about 5 more chapters, is everyone okay with that?

**Chapter Seven**

**Friends of sorts and no way with words.**  

The moon had arisen in haste; the water from the stream became a black mirror, illuminating the surrounding area like a lantern. It was beautiful. Tranquil. Too peaceful...

“Did you really, you know... uh” spluttering and face flushing crimson, you finally managed to breathe it out “Kiss me to life?” you cringed. It sounded awful. You didn't mean, however, to scrunch your face as if it was a bad thing. Oh, on the contrary!

That devilish twinkle appeared and Bofur didn't exactly answer your question. “Would it be so bad if I did, lass?” Oh gods! You breathed in, hard. How on middle-earth could you answer that? If you said no, it would be a lie and it would probably offend him, if you said yes... it could possibly give him a whole new array of ammunition, or the wrong idea...

Keep calm and breathe, you told yourself... He took to staring all too intently at you, you knew the answer he was seeking... why did you have to bring it up? You scolded yourself mentally for far too long instead of thinking up a reply.

"Aye, I'll take that as a yes" Bofur's face was hard to read, he disguised his anguish so well with his jokes and his charm. He simply decided this time, to shrug it off.

"I... I'm sorry" you whispered. Mostly to yourself for being so foolish, you wanted to sink away into a pit of darkness and never crawl out.

"What for?" his eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"For being me" You sighed. He wasn't expecting such a response.

Most of the group were too busy drinking, dancing and singing. Yet on this night, Bofur had taken to sitting beside you, making sure at frequent intervals you were okay. Bilbo would stop his drinking - as the group had pressured him as their hero to have a few - to also ask how you were doing. They both made your head hurt and your chest ache.

"That's nothing you need to be sorry for" Bofur said as he poked the roaring fire with a stick. "You're perfect the way you are" something jumped and fluttered in yoru chest again. "I'd be happy enough just being your friend" his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft and very warm smile, one which you returned, very slowly as his words began to register. He meant that he wouldn't be angry with you, no matter what...

~

The next morning was a gruesome one, Gandalf had insisted that everyone leave at dawn, but a lot of the younger Dwarves had hangovers, and the older Dwarves protested that it was too early, but nonetheless the Wizard was up, and practically beating everyone awake with his staff.

"Get up you fools! You made enough noise last night to wake the dead, we need to make haste!" the wise Wizard scolded.

Eventually everyone complied packing up the remainder of the bowls and empty mugs, their packs were growing lighter every day, the food was scarce and the ale was dry! Not a good combination when Hobbits or Dwarves were concerned.

Bilbo snored and grunted as he was kicked, swiftly, in his roaring stomach by Balin.

"Get up Laddie, you don't want to make the Wizard any angrier than he is already!" Half the company was staring in Bilbo's direction... his poor little head pounded. He was the only one who remained asleep. He really regretted drinking again... He convinced himself that you thought he was an alcoholic.

"Uhgh. My head!" he pleaded. "Alright, alright, I'm getting up!"

Bilbo swiftly rolled his sleeping pack and strapped it onto his back in a matter of minutes. Thorin grew impatient and began walking off, followed by Fili and Kili as scouts. Bombur and Bofur began looking for food, and Ori, Nori and Dori trailed behind to make sure nothing was pursuing them.

Over hills, climbing up rocks, trudging through mud, plodding along fields and pastures and through forests... that would be a day Bilbo would consider to be one of the longest of his life.

Night began to descend on middle-earth, everything grew darker in shade. The group had settled in a forest, a dingy and eery looking one at that. It was there that Bilbo found it. A beautiful white rose. Its beauty reminded him of you. It was the smallest on the bush and the purest shade. He blushed at the thought, and proceeded to pick at it's stem to break it free.

"Bilbo?" your soft voice rang through the small clearing. He snagged the rose free just in time, but he scraped his finger along one of the thorns. The pain was sharp, but the cut was small. It was nothing...

"Hey, I wondered where you had gone; I've been looking for you. Dinner is ready!" Now that you were here, with him, in private... he just couldn't find the words, the gesture seemed so trivial now; would you enjoy a flower? What would you be able to do with it among the chaos that followed you both, ensnared you both and lay to the path beyond? Bilbo didn't notice that he hadn't given you a reply. He simply stared, until you become uncomfortable.

"Something wrong?" you began cautiously.

"Um." He opened his mouth to speak, the words wanted to come out, but he wasn't as elaborate, or as charming in his speech as Bofur was. He wished at that second he could be the toy maker dwarf, just to impress you... "Nothing. Ah..."

"Sure seems like nothing, what's wrong?"

That was a good question. Bilbo's finger now felt numb, and his head a little lighter than it was before. The latter, perhaps a good thing. He began to sweat. His eyelids grew heavy.

"I think I'm poi-soned" he slurred.

~

You reacted as fast as you could with the only thing you knew would surely help.

"Where?" you abruptly demanded.

Bilbo held up his finger pitifully.

"I'm sorry to have to do this..." for a second fear flashed in his eyes. Were you going to cut it off?!

Bilbo's face flushed as you took his hand, and placed your mouth over the index finger where the cut produced blood and began to suck the poison from his finger.

"Uh _Y/N_" he struggled. You just looked up at him through your eyelashes, still continuing to suck his finger. The toxin was messing with his mind. "I..." he so desperately wanted not to faint, not to appear weak. He just simply let you continue until you could taste that the poison was thinning. You spat out the blood at regular intervals, squeezing his hand to release more blood. It became more difficult as time ticked slowly onward.

Finally, the blood stopped, and whatever poison was coursing through his bloodstream you could do nothing about.

"Are you feeling okay?" he nodded. Looking rather drunken and slightly bashful. "How did you bloody poison yourself?" you demanded

"Paliurus bu-ush" his speech was drawled. It took you a moment to register. Finally with enough just enough toxin to keep him from dying, or worse fainting -at that moment- he held up the rose.

It was beautiful. You gasped and suddenly you felt awful for being so harsh with him and also very embarrassed at the intimate gesture he presented and what you did to relieve the poison from his body.

"For me?" You didn't have a way with words in these situations. Definitely not. This was perhaps a stupid question, Bilbo just nodded.

"It's beautiful, like you." he offered with a smile. There is was again, that leap in your chest, that god awful pain that felt so harsh and yet so amazing.

"Thank you" you said softly. He was expecting a thank you at least, but not what followed. You took the flower gently, and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding the flower delicately away from both of you as if it were precious. He honestly didn't know how to react; the poor hobbit hadn't planned that far ahead. Instead the words just fell out of his mouth in a very soft whisper. He instantly regretted it.

"I love you"

Your breath hitched, your heart stopped completely. Your mind fell blank. And your body felt numb. You weren't sure how to react, did you love him back? Of course. But you also loved Bofur... you wanted to scream, to run off into the woods, into the wilds and never come back, to either of them. You simply didn't want to choose. Not now. Not ever. But your heart wanted to react in a completely different way. And frankly, you weren't up for listening to either.

"It's okay" he laughed, still intoxicated. "I didn't mean to tell you like this" you drew back from him, still realising you were embracing him. You held him at arm’s length, studying his expression. "I know you don't... love" he bit down on the word as if a lump had formed "me back."

"Bilbo..." you whispered. Staring solemnly into his ocean blue eyes. "I..." he was breath taking in the moonlight. Your posture slumped as you thought of letting him down, or letting Bofur down. You couldn't love them both and you didn't want to have to chose. "I... do feel the same" you looked at the rose, pondering everything "but you have to understand..."

"It's okay" he laughed again. Why was he so calm? He reached up, plucking at the courage that he had stored until this moment with the help of the poison fogging his brain and let it show as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "No matter what you do, or who you choose... you'll always be my friend. I'm not going to hold ill will against your wishes, you deserve better than that"

"Thank you" you whispered once more. You both wondered back to the group, looking glum and disheartened.

Bofur was laughing and eating with his brother... He saw you and Bilbo and nodded to you when you acknowledged him there. You somehow understood what he had telepathically said. And you shook your head. Picking up a bowl of food you walked over the edge of where the group sat, and ate in solitude.

You felt angry with yourself. But you made up your mind; when you got to Mirkwood, you would be ready to decide. You gave yourself a few weeks to think on your journey.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew who you wanted. Somewhere deep inside your heart, locked away, was the answer you were seeking. But being the one to try and please everybody, being the one who never wanted to hurt anyone... your judgement was clouded.


	8. White Light and Storm Clouds Gather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two powerful jewels can destroy everything beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the desolation! I couldn't wait another week. Oh gods, it was perfect, beautiful, fabulous, if you haven't seen it already, please sell your soul for a ticket, it's worth it!  
> Martin looked breath taking in this movie as did James!   
> Well voting is over, I'm going to leave it to fate, I hope you like this chapter!  
> And if you haven't read the book or seen the film, sorry for the spoils ~ You have been warned!  
> Reviews are loved ~

**Chapter Eight**

**White Light and Storm Clouds Gather**

Beorn was not what you expected, he towered over the company and even Gandalf, great and abrupt in his mannerisms, but he had a keen interest to help you all succeed.

You had run from a pack of Wargs and Orcs trailing you all, hell bent on destroying each and every Dwarf and their accomplices; Beorn had transformed into a giant bear and protected the group, however not with great fondness of the Dwarf kind at that, but he told you of his story, how the defiler had decimated his family and friends, fellow Skin-Changers. It was a heart wrenching story that left the group no merrier than they were before they entered. Especially you.

Several of the Dwarfs noticed you had preferred your own company as of late, not eating with the company as closely as you once did; less laughter, more of a temper... lost to a daydream.

“Are you alright lass?” Balin asked out of concern during a quiet breakfast. “You’ve have grown quiet as of late.” Your eyes darted around the table as the Dwarves all stared at you eagerly awaiting an answer.

“Oh you know, this journey is growing ever more dangerous. I just...” you began searching deep for an answer, you didn’t want to say the words fear in front of the Dwarven King, or well... any of them, even if it was a white lie. “... Hope this journey will come to an ending soon with a happy resolution.” You had managed to convince them as they all grunted in agreement, beginning to chat amongst themselves.

Balin nodded to you, but leaned in closer to whisper so only your ears would hear. “That’s all well and good lass, but I think there’s more on your mind than that.” He noticed you were toying with the pendant around your neck... “I’ve read many books in my time, young _Y/N_, I know the sigil marking on that jewel of yours,” you gulped slightly. Why hadn’t he said anything before?! You were left wondering about the magic that was wrapped around your neck day and night.

“What is it?” you whispered, cautiously eyeing everyone around you to make sure no-one was listening, out of the corner of your eye Bofur cast you a forlorn expression before continuing on with his breakfast.

“That, is Veritas,” he began. “Forged by a Witch in the battles of the second age, it seeks the truth. The legends in the transcripts I read once stated that there were two other sigils added at a later date, by the one who forged it as the evil forces grew. Veritas, Vita and Via, Truth, Life and the way. What you have there, lass, may be very useful or very dangerous... Be careful, I won’t ask you how you came by it, that is none of my business but heed my warning... ”

You nodded reluctantly and went back to eating your breakfast, although you had lost most of your appetite, and that for a Hobbit was quite a rare thing indeed!

Beorn was reluctant to help at first, but he granted you ponies to reach Mirkwood with swift speed. The dwarves each greedily hurried to pick a pony, while you and Bilbo lagged behind.

He hadn’t spoken a word to you since the incident in the forest... It hurt too much to look at him and you were sure he was thinking the same.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing,” he stated flatly to you, whilst you were lost in daydream again. His brows furrowed when you didn’t reply. “_Y/N_, are you alright? You seem out of it lately.”

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered. “I...” you couldn’t think up a valid excuse for your behaviour. “I have a great weight on my mind,” you whispered, propping a saddle on the last available pony.

You were about to mount up when Bilbo cupped his hand around your upper arm.

“I meant what I said, albeit a little drugged, but I won’t force you to choose, ever. But it hurts me more when you don’t talk to me and I’m sure Bofur isn’t fond of the distance you’ve wedged between everyone.” He spoke softly, trying not t offend you on calling you cold.

“What makes you think I’ve chosen either of you?!” you spat. Bilbo’s eyes went wide. This was not like you at all! “Maybe the distance has been lodged there so you both get the idea because you seem to have collected the wrong one in the first place,” your voice was a low growl, laced with venom. You had no idea what washed over you that second...

The closer you stood to Bilbo the more the anger radiated and grew like a toxic cloud. Drawing you in and consuming you. The necklace burned white hot on your skin. You continued to edge closer to his face, your voice growing softer in tone as you edged towards his ear.

“I see what you hold in your pocket. I see your fondness lies elsewhere...” and before Bilbo could reply you had swiftly drawn away and mounted the rather large pony.

He didn’t dare touch his pocket, to check the ring. He rubbed at the sweat collecting in his palms, standing awkwardly for a few slowly ticking seconds before mounting the pony. This was going to be an uncomfortable ride to Mirkwood...

~

For the last few days you hadn’t spoken to anyone other than to say please and thank you where appropriate. Mostly it hurt because, well... you hadn’t spoken to him...

Bofur let out a sigh, the ride to Mirkwood had him thinking on everything, Erabor, the safety of his brother, cousin and friends, and a lot about his feelings for you. What if something were to happen to you? What if you didn’t return his feelings? He was making himself feel sick...

He told you he’d be a dear friend no matter what, but it didn’t excuse the fact that he would feel disappointed if you chose Bilbo. But out of respect for you, if that is what your heart desired, then he had no place to convince you otherwise or judge you.

The journey was arduous on the back of these wild ponies, the road was treacherous, and on and on the ponies journeyed, Thorin would not stop, Durin’s day was dawning, and the determination in his eyes was furious.

Bofur admired the King and his spirit. He often wished that he could be like Thorin in the respect that no matter what, he marched on and did what he thought was right, no matter the consequences...

Bofur cast another longing glance at you. Your face was stern, your features had aged considerably in the last few days, like a heavy weight burdened you, he would often see you reaching for your neck, and fondling the precious metal that sent your eyes wild.

Bilbo’s face too, was set in a deep frown. What had happened between you two in the woods?

Bofur hated himself for thinking it, but maybe... just maybe, he stood more of a chance...

~

Bilbo couldn’t believe what you had said to him or the way you were behaving. If one thing was for certain, you definitely weren’t the same hobbit anymore, and neither was he.

The closeness of your back pressed against him as the pony cut through the terrain with its hooves was torture. You felt ice cold; poor Bilbo felt awkward putting his arms around you to hold the reins of the pony. His heart would occasionally skip a beat, why were you behaving like this?

“_Y/N_, I’m sorry.”

“Bilbo... what I said back there, I... I don’t know what came over me...” had you returned to your senses? He hoped so. He could feel warmth returning to your body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it,” Bilbo could feel a shift in your weight; you relaxed a little, leaning into him more.

“Uh...It’s fine” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat. Oh gods, save him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

~

Something in your mind shifted, you were able to think clearly again, you were able to control your body once more.

The black fog in your mind lifted... You remembered exiting Beorn’s cabin to borrow one of the ponies, Bilbo brushed your shoulder and softly apologised, you felt glowing warmth around your neck and suddenly a thick, black cloud consumed your mind, an eye converged in flame, screaming at you.

“Bilbo, that ring is dangerous,” you whispered returning your mind to the present. A feeling of concern washed over you when you remembered the sensation of the screaming in your head.

Suddenly it was his turn to shift into darkness.

“What I do with my possession is of no concern of yours” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot on the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine; he used the same tone, the same malice laced his venomous voice as you had previously used.

You gripped the reigns of the pony, forcing the animal to stop and raise its body into the air in protest; you rolled your shoulders back and forced Bilbo off the back of the horse. Before the company could register what had happened you had drawn your sword jumping from the pony with a rapid, gracious movement, the necklace growing white hot again on your skin.

Bilbo could see a shift in your face, he took a deep breath his eyes narrowed at you from the ground, the ring felt heavy in his pocket, heavy and its powerful aura surrounding him. He began to rise to his feet, his breathing heavy, his shoulders hunched, seething in anger that didn't belong to him... So much so he reached a hand for the pommel of his sword. He let out a feral grin.

There was no control left in your mind, that ring was dangerous, and its magic was reacting with the pendant you wore. You breathed. Everything was a series of basic motions.

“Enough!” The Wizard’s voice bellowed over the rolling fields, a shadow emanating from him as he commanded control over both of you before you sliced one another’s throats. He dismounted his horse. “I do not know nor do I care what has caused this dispute, but it ends now! The stubbornness of dwarves is one thing, but two Hobbits brawling is another thing entirely! _Y/N_, Bilbo, if you don’t sort this childishness before Mirkwood I will personally see to it that you both go back to the Shire!”

Of course, he was bluffing, but nonetheless you did not want to incur the wrath of a Wizard who meant business.

~

Bofur watched it in such slow clarity, taking in every detail of that menacing persona that erupted from you as you jumped from the horse. Clad in light Elven clothing, your long cloak bellowing around you, sword drawn in a warrior stance, you definitely, did not, look like a Hobbit.

If he blinked hard enough he thought he could see a white distinctive atmosphere surrounding you for just a split second, like the way heat radiates from the ground on a blistering day.

Until Gandalf called off the tension with his own booming voice...

He watched you sulk and walk away from the horse to find another companion. Leaving Bilbo breathing heavily, staring still, through narrowed eyes at you as you walked away from him to anyone else that would receive your company.

“We can switch if you want, brother.” Bombur whispered to Bofur.

“No, Bombur, it’s fine, I don’t want to end up like Bilbo,” he muttered cautiously.

 “_Y/N_!” Thorin shouted, causing some of the group to gasp a little. He manoeuvred his pony over towards you, and offered you his hand.

The whole group fell silent, confused and anxious for your safety.

~

“I will see to it you don’t disrupt this journey again, I won’t be so easily thrown off my Pony if I displease you,” was that a jest? From the King? It almost looked as if he had a smile on his face.

You wondered why on middle-earth, after you had threatened his burglar, he was offering you his company and his hand, with an –almost- smile on his face?!

You took his hand, and he helped you onto the back of his pony. He kicked the stirrup and on the pony bolted for Mirkwood. “I beg your pardon, Thorin, but to what do I owe this honour?” you were slightly taken back by the gesture, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but he was the Dwarf King!

He let out a low, very short laugh. “You don’t owe anything,” he began, “just try not to dismember any of my company, you’ve already enchanted a few of them with that stunt...” he didn't need to go on much further, riding a three day journey to Mirkwood may not have been a good idea with some of the more impressionable Dwarves.

Your face flushed crimson. “Uh, sorry about that...” you nervously laughed. “It won’t happen again,” you added strongly.

“No, it won’t.” Thorin stated flatly. "But I am intrigued as to where that fighting spirit came from, we could use that in future, although please direct it at the right enemy..." he cocked an eyebrow and looked over his shoulder.

You released another nervous laugh and geared yourself up for a very awkward few days...


	9. Mindless and Mesmerised, Dehumanised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things become a little clearer when the fog lifts.

**Chapter Nine:**

**Mindless and Mesmerised, Dehumanised.**

Gandalf parted the company in desperate haste to proceed with other business elsewhere that commanded his attention; the gates of Mirkwood were terrifying and the woods beyond appeared to be an endless flow of darkness and despair, the company did not want to enter, however there was no other way to venture to Erabor in time of Durin’s day!

Oh the gods, it was terrifying, you were told by Gandalf, strictly to stay on the path! However that soon proved to be an impossible feat, the path appeared to lose itself entirely under the forest floor and a huge gaping chasm, and you all began to wander, lost, through the foliage, and void of darkness that was the forest.

Everything soon became warped, fireflies and other strange creatures began to illuminate the terrifying woodland in a whole new spectrum, and everyone started to hallucinate.

Your hallucinations were particularly frightful. All the Dwarves’ heads began to change, you saw Bilbo everywhere, your temper flared up and you imagined your necklace was on fire. You started to scream but Bofur shook you, until everyone’s head returned to normal and you screamed bloody murder in Bilbo’s general direction, to which he simply spaced out and ignored you... staring at a puddle on the floor.

Everyone began arguing as you all ventured around in circles for hours upon hours!

Thorin shouted at his company to be quiet. “We are being watched!” He said in a low growl.

The group took heed, and shuffled onward, to nowhere in particular.

Bilbo sat down to recover for a few minutes, the web next to him looked intriguing and he began plucking at the silk as if it were a harp.

With a warped and heavy mind you started looking to the darkened forest top, shouting “Star!” to which then became a muttering of Elvish dribble... You didn’t even know you could speak Elvish. You couldn't, but the world and language is a fantastic venture when your mind is not your own...

Bilbo looked up to your direction of sight, and began tapping his head, suddenly something clicked in his fogged up mind, and he began climbing up, up and out of the tree tops to the light of day towering above the sick forest’s floor.

“The lonely Mountain!” he shouted. You heard him from the floor, but the Dwarves didn’t hear Bilbo shout. You wondered why...

There was a lot of noise, and then darkness descended over your mind, you had been knocked unconscious.

_Shadows danced across your mind._

It was then that it happened. Like breaking free from chains, Melnor cascaded down upon your consciousness. His face, changed from the hollow man you saw in the shadows of the Goblin tunnels... Younger, reckless and rugged. You recognised the cloak and long ancient garments he was decorated with. You somehow knew those eyes, they reminded you quite fondly of your brother...

He laughed, but not the empty cackle he did before, it was mellow and hearty.

“Oh dear _Y/N_, what did I tell you? When you speak to me again, make sure your heart is far less burdened than it is now, you took the opposite path to my advice!” his voice bellowed, but it was full of kindness. He offered you a warm smile.

“Hello again.” You nodded to him. Almost as if you were speaking to an old friend...

“Ah, have you figured it out yet?” He asked, moving closer and touching the pendant that hung around your neck with a light tap from his middle finger.

“Oh...” you looked upon his eyes; yes... they were your brothers! Deepest blue with a ring of green and yellow, the colour the ladies of the Shire went weak at the knees for... And his hair, it was dark, in contrast to the white strands that he wore in the tunnels. But there was something about his spirit, adventurous, great and inquisitive. You could sense it, much like your own!

“Oh!” You exclaimed. Now certain in the fact that before you, stood an ancestor of yours!

“By the Gods!  How... how is this possible?!” Your eyes were wide, sparkling with a deep thirst for knowledge, answers and understanding.

Melnor laughed again. “Don’t get too comfortable in your ancestry, sweet heart.” He whispered. “I am Melnor, son of Melkor.” His face became sick. You searched your memory for the name...

No.

It wasn’t possible, it was **not**   _possible!_

You became nauseous; the room span. The first Dark Lord... You fell to your knees. In your mind you were just a lowly Hobbit, it didn’t make sense! How could you be a descendant of Morgoth?

“Lineage can be diluted; Elves, Men, even Maiar share blood, my dear, your dear Hobbit friend is a descendant of the Fae.” He knelt beside you.

“Do not despair; thankfully I seem to have inherited my Uncles spirit and niceties. That thing you are clutching to... it will protect, heal slight wounds, it will seek the truth in darkness, but it will not protect your mind, it elevates power. The only reason for it to work on you is to have holy blood! My blood...” his face was grave with burden.

“I’m sorry,” you hushed.

“Hah!” he barked, “I bet you are, I would be too if I lived under false illusion,” Melnor interjected ruggedly. “This isn’t a dream _Y/N_, you have a purpose. Our meeting was fate, it was not an accident. You were meant to undertake this quest, and that ring of destruction, of power was meant to be found by Bilbo! There is much I didn’t tell you before, and a few misguided pieces of information I threw at you, but please, do not take this news as entirely as ill fated,” his face became soft once more.

“I always knew my family came from evil...” a twitch pulled at your upper lip and Melnor let out the most powerful howl of laughter. At least he wasn’t pushing off imaginary bats, or falling asleep this time... You winced at the depth of his amusement.

“Perhaps.” He beamed. “I don’t expect that they know where their true heritage lies, that would be a secret best kept safe through history.” Melnor winked at you. “You must not tell the Wizard, you must tell no-one. Melkor fathered two children in secret, my brother tragically sided with the darkness; he was slain during the raging battles of the first age. I did live on, and I did have three beautiful children who, thankfully, were born into the light!” his eyes glistened proudly.  

“Keep it a secret, keep it safe.” He put a finger on his lips and out of habit, looked around in the darkness for intruders and somewhat remembered this was your consciousness, there were no intruders. You nodded to him in acknowledgement.

He chuckled quietly to himself, delving into your subconscious mind with his magic. “It looks like you’re going to have a lot of trouble with that blasted ring in future to come...” his eyes landed back upon you. You chocked a little, understanding what he meant...

“_Y/N_, you understand that everything happens for a reason, else how could prophesies come true?” he genuinely was like your brother... Teasing you about that damn fool of a Took!

“Dear Arda, you remind me of my brother,” you stated flatly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Glad to see my sense of humour still burns on in my family...” you both gave a small laugh. Melnor released a heavy sigh.

“I will tell you everything in the near future, this is draining my power, all of it, just speaking to you!” he droned on, growing heavy and weary. “I’m glad that kindness and courage has found its way into my bloodline, a far cry from the foulness in which we were created,” his voice was fading...

“You’ve never met my sisters,” you protested. “Evil must have crept back in...” Melnor chuckled.

“I wish the circumstances could have been very different,” he began “and there are undoubtedly more answers that you seek, more questions you wish to ask, I can see the glimmer in your eyes; but there isn’t enough time. When you hit the floor, wake up,” the tall, dark haired man whispered.

“Wake up?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

He nodded. “Yes, wake up!”

Your eyes were flooded with a dim light, the waking world coming into focus.

A whisper rang on in your mind even though the consciousness, “until next time.”

He was gone.

Sheer horror surrounded you, the creatures of nightmares, giant spiders!  You unsheathed Harmony with quick precision, using the training Fili and Kili had taught you.

“Bilbo!” you shouted the Hobbit’s name, but he didn’t answer...

You began to panic, looking all around the chaos and fighting for him, he was no-where to be seen.

“Where are you?” You screamed, a set of armour plated, long legs and fangs came charging towards you, you blocked, but not with ease. The spider was too heavy, you let out a little cry and pushed every ounce of strength into your blade as you could muster, enough for you to escape under the beast and slice at the weaker underside. It screeched an unholy sound and you charged towards other spiders. Leaving the one behind you to die.

You slid under one of the ugly creatures, piercing another in the stomach.

“Answer me you bloody Took!” Your eyes searched high and low, you feared the worst...

You were pushed back into the fray by another spider; it began clutching your leg with its fangs, the sharp teeth finding a purchase in your boots.  You hacked its tooth off and rendered its head asunder.

More and more appeared from nowhere, an eternal web was spun around the forest, signalling the ones in hiding that dinner has been strung up for the taking, as they all rushed in you and the Dwarves put up a blood thirsty fight against them. But it wasn’t enough, they began overpowering the company.

The Elves arrives armed and ready. Their bows drawn back and their arrows marked with deadly accuracy as the strings guided the wooden weapons swiftly.

They cut the spiders down, one or two of the creatures struggled and tried to get away, but they were caught and sliced down mercilessly.

“Do not think I won’t kill you, Dwarf!” One of them exclaimed. His armour was exquisite, and his hair made you slightly jealous, it reminded you of silk. His eyes were fierce and a deep shade of blue. He must have been someone very important...

He began barking orders to the other Elves in his native tongue. You could pick out words here and there... but it mostly made no sense.

One of the elves grabbed you roughly by the arm, causing you to drop Harmony, he didn't notice because you made a fuss, and he tried to steady your protests...

“Oi!” you squealed at him. “That’s no way to treat a lady!” Your foot made a quick strike for his ankle. You smugly marched in line as the Elf pushed you forward and proceeded to rub his ankle. He muttered curse words you couldn’t understand, you didn’t want to, you had a small triumph over the Elf. Whether he knew it or not...

A short trek later and a journey through the realms of the Mirkwood Elves and you came face to face with their imprisoning chambers.

“Get in!” the Elf barked at you, tossing you into a dungeon cell.

“Do I have a choice?” you retorted as he slammed the iron bars shut. He gave you a dangerous glare before walking off. You sulked and slid down the wall into a pile on the floor.

“Anyone up for I spy?” You tried to make light of the situation once the Elves departed.

“I’ll start!” Fili let out a little laugh at your small attempt at humour in a dark situation and joined in. “Does it begin with B?” The young blonde Dwarf asked from the cell opposite.

“Yes!” You cheered. 

“Bars.” He stated flatly.

“Well done, you win... erm, actually I don’t have a anything, the Elves took it!”you spat bitterly and you both let out a heavy laugh.

Kili remained silent in a dazed state from his encounter with the She-Elf, and the other Dwarves began complaining among themselves.

Bofur had managed to smuggle in his flute, and started to play it. Joining in with the game of I spy with you and Fili.

"Well this is a fine bonding experience," the toy maker started, "I spy with my eyes, something beginning with D!"

"Doors!" Fili shouted.

"Dungeon!" You squeaked.

"Nope to both of you." Bofur said. 

You began thinking hard about this one...

"Dwarves!" you shouted. 

"_Y/N_ gets the point!" Bofur exclaimed merrily.

"That's not fair!" Fili shouted. "You could have easily changed that to let _Y/N_ win!" he sulked.

"Oh dear, Fili you don't get extra points for being a big baby about it! Besides he didn't change anything else he could have given me the point on my first guess!" You defended Bofur's choice of spy and your points, obviously, since those matter when you are locked in a dungeon for possibly eternity. One must tally a score...

"If I ask you another one," Bofur began, "then it's a dead heat since you both have one point..."

"Fine!" Fili chanted excitedly. "But she doesn't get the point because you like her more!" 

"Right now you're both getting on my beard!" Bofur breathed a laugh, a small blush on his face, he was glad he was in a dark dungeon...

**~POV~**

Bilbo was frantically searching the halls for a way out. He found the dungeons with ease, still concealed under the veil of the ring.

There you sat, laughing and trying to crack jokes to your companions. The Dwarves adored you and Bilbo both; they liked Bilbo’s cunning and your charm. Some were more enchanted by your grace than others though, but strangely Bilbo didn’t mind, it just gave him more admiration for you.

The day you pulled your sword on him, when the evil of the precious gold ring in his pocket took over you both, he felt like a piece of him had destroyed itself.

With great fondness he stared upon your face, wishing only to reach out and desperately tell you how sorry he was, how much he despised himself for being so weak willed, for not discarding the thing that was now wrapped around his finger, warping his mind into erroneous ways.

He pulled himself together and hurried down into the basement, following the sound of drunken Elves muttering about barrels and the lake... it all sounded to him as if there was a way out.

And then luck struck its harmonious chord.

The keeper of the keys set them down on a rack, not out of reach of dear Bilbo. The Elf began drinking and his fellow guardsmen joined in. All laughing and exclaiming that the ‘Dwarves and their shrunken companion weren’t going anywhere’...

Bilbo felt a spat of anger rise in him when they called you ‘shrunken’; to him you were more beautiful than any elf!

The joke was on them this time, the second they had passed out, the plucked the keys from the rack and journeyed back up the winding staircase to the dungeons.

**~POV~**

You had every faith that Bilbo was lurking somewhere, safe and unharmed. That thought gave you a tremendous amount of warmth; until your thoughts cascaded back into shadow...

You didn’t hear the iron gates hinges give a tiny squeak, you didn’t hear the muffled voices or the quiet ushers for quiet.

“Bilbo, where are you?” You whispered aloud.

The door gave a little click and then a screech...

“Here...” he whispered. You snapped your head to see those beautiful blue eyes, fall of warmth and kindness, his hand held out to you.

You took it without a second thought of the ring, or the pendant. 

"I have a present for you," he whispered and handed Harmony back to you, unstrapping the unsheathed sword from its hilt that was strapped to his belt.

Your eyes were wide and dazzled. You pulled him into a crushing hug whispering "thank you," profusely. 

Bilbo lightly patted your back and let out a small chuckle. 

"No problem, I found it on the forest floor," he didn't mention the part about him frantically searching for his ring that had fallen from his grasp...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for this chapter, I'm hoping some of you will like this direction, because it will work, eventually...  
> Well I think it does anyway! I hope a lot of you like Melnor as much as I do. He's aloof but likable!  
> I will spare a lot of you some pain and reveal the pairing in the next chapter. It's obvious now anyway.


	10. Beards, Barrels and Bards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death surrounds us, death may yet become us...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter.  
> Sorry I haven't updated in a while.  
> Muhaha I'm evil to Rea-chan. But Merry Christmas!
> 
> P.S I like writing as Bard, quite a lot, so he'll probably ave another POV feature soon ~  
> Also contains spoilers!

**Chapter Ten:**

**Beards, Barrels and Bards.**

"Hold your breath!" Bilbo let out a harsh whisper to the confused Dwarves and one largely dazed Hobbit. He gave you a reassuring nod, and then thrust all his weight against the lever to release the barrels into the river.

A flurrying feeling formed in your stomach, as the barrel rolled out over the wooden plank, followed by a heavy lurch fluttering through your body when it began cascading down a 20 foot drop straight into freezing cold water.

"Heavens!" You screamed as the water temperature winded you.

You looked around at everyone else now bobbing around in the barrels. If you were observing this from dry land you would have laughed, but as you were in the same boat... so to speak, you definitely did not find it a laughing matter at that particular instant.

It wasn't too long before the barrels caught the current and began drifting off along the river...

The trap door above made another groan and out flopped a Hobbit; Bilbo made an icy landing into the water. For a second, you hoped to the Arda that he could swim!

His head resurfaced, and he paddled like a drowned rat to the barrels. Thorin let out the most humongous grin, relieved and slightly in awe of his little hero.

"Welcome, Master Baggins!"

Bilbo tried to nod as best he could, but the cold water was weighing down on him. He paddled faster trying to catch up to the wooden objects, mainly aiming for yours because he knew he could fit...

He clambered onto the side, but he couldn't lift himself up. You latched on to his arm and he let out a little hiss.

"Sorry," you muttered.

"S-s'alright..." he chattered.

"Don't you dare let go of my hand!" You commanded, staring at him with a burning sensation in your chest.

"Never," he breathed and you held his gaze for the longest most painful second, before trying to pull him up. The wooden container thrashed with the current and each rip of a wave Bilbo was thrown back into the water. Eventually he gave up trying to clamber on, you held onto his arm protectively, the current dragging the barrels off down the river, picking up speed very quickly.

Everyone prepared as the turbulence began, the barrels coursed the river with speed and ferocity, bobbing this way and that way, it was terrifying. You could hear elves in the background shouting in their native tongue, a horn began to blow and everyone's hearts sank... The gate began to close.

"No!" Thorin screamed, his hands clutching the iron bars as the gate did indeed hinder any chance of escape.

"Orcs!" You could observe them clearly running along the rock faces that ran next to the river.

You were right, they burst through over the edge of the wall and slayed the Elven gate guards. They plummeted to their death in the river below just missing the barrels by inches. The vile creatures began laying waste to everyone on the scene and trying to reach for the Dwarves, as Elves fell into the river some of the Dwarves had the cunning idea to take their weapons if they could reach them. Dwalin and Thorin armed themselves; while Fili and Kili used their well trained fists to hand combat any Orc that threatened to take their life.

Kili's eyes fell on the lever that would open the gate, it almost seemed a world away, but he clambered out of his barrel, finding the strength to jump to the pathway.

You stared slightly in awe, as he cut down several Orcs to reach the lifeline you all needed to escape!

It happened in slow motion... all of you stared in horror!

The arrow found its mark...

"No!" you screamed, in unison with several Dwarves and Bilbo.

You felt sick, Kili, was surely going to die.

She burst through, swirling and beautiful, a protective aura resonating from her figure, she was powerful and deadly; Tauriel saved him. A shallow breath left your body as you watched her with envy and admiration, the way she moved and the swiftness of her reflexes; the same went for the Prince guard they called Legolas... He was something else entirely. Cunning and charming, you were definitely enchanted by the two of them... the didn't notice the sword lunging for you face.

"_Y/N_!" Bilbo shouted, forcing his weight against the barrel, Sting already drawn, he rolled the wood towards him, lurching you out of your Elven lure. The sword cruised past your face and trust against the oncoming blade; like a flash the Orc lunged, and Bilbo struck him down, growling like a feral beast. You heard it in a low rumble from his throat.

He met your gaze again, his expression softened and his eyebrows rose up in a soft pang of sadness.

**~POV~**

It was like you were looking at him as a different creature entirely... Your eyes betrayed your calm demeanour. He didn't mean to snarl, he wanted to protect you...

Your sword lunged before him and past his ear... straight into another Orc.

Your panting was heavy and your eyes became a deep shade of black from their regular _E/C_. A white burning glow shimmering around your neck... Something wasn't quite right... A dark shadow fell over your face.

"_Y/N_," Bilbo whispered; your response was a heavy blink, before your eyes changed back and you became disorientated.

Kili threw his weight against the lever, he screamed in protest of the pain that rumbled through his leg and spiralled its way through his nerves; he slipped from the edge back into his barrel with a heavy roar before everyone tumbled through the gates and over the waterfall, away to freedom, for the most part...

As Bilbo was flung over the waterfall he let go of the wood, let go of your arm and let the wind and water take him down to the bottom.

The dark gathering cast themselves after the Dwarves and Hobbits, over the edge and beyond the river.

Now free of the Elven gates of Mirkwood the Orcs pursued you all... slicing, baring teeth, firing arrows, throwing axes and knives, they were fierce with determination but two Elves continued to swirl through the trees, dancing across the branches and cutting down the despicable evil, aiding you all in your escape without meaning to, erasing the filth was the main objective.

You let out a blood curdling cry of agony. Bilbo's face whipped to see why you were piercing the heavens above.

His chest tightened...

**~POV~**

The pain was unlike anything; a blistering burning in your shoulder and that was just the poison. You were screeching curses as you gripped the wooden shaft of the arrow, ripping the broad head quickly from where it was buried in your skin...

"Arghh!" You bellowed through gritted teeth, the water was pulling the barrel one way and then another. A surprisingly strong pair of hands found yours.

"Stay with me! Don't pass out!" Bilbo cried.

"I... Urgh!" The pendant began to work its magic, a numb sensation spreading down your neck and into your shoulder. The gaping wound began to seal to poison inside your body...

"No!" You cried, clawing at your shoulder, trying to  tear the wound open again. The pain was unreal, your stomach turned, you felt sick and the seething agony began pulsing through your body... You leaned over the side of the barrel.

"_Y/N_, are you alright?" Bilbo was frantically trying to get a response, anything, but your face had turned green and your body felt cold under his grasp. "Please, please be okay..." he choked; he reached over to pat your back...

"Bilbo..." tears rolled from your eyes, you couldn't control them, as much as you felt embarrassed, wanted to suck them back up and brush him off... to tell him you were fine. “I'm scared," you sobbed.

More Orcs slashed at you both, but Bilbo cut into them, risking life and limb to protect you, being dragged along by the floating object. He found the strength he needed when a threat presented itself, forcing his body up and with his spare arm thrusting Sting into their flesh.

The Dwarves around you were coping fine, Orcs fell in the water and they rendered each weapon they could from their filthy clutches, weapons were flying and death spilled into the river.

Finally, the current was too fast and too strong, giving you all some distance...

A clearing appeared and the current faded. The Dwarves waded to the shore and gathered themselves.

Bilbo helped you out of the barrel, guiding you to the shore pulling you against his body and propping your arm over his shoulder. Your consciousness became too thin to grasp your head spun and the world began to fade. The necklace was still warm against your neck, trying to reach you with its mystical touch. Your hand wrapped loosely around it and the world lurched forward.

You vomited the poison out of your body...

Three Dwarves rushed to your side. "Are you okay lass?!" Bofur wasn't expecting an answer; it was obvious you were beyond okay.

"Kili and _Y/N_ are wounded!" Fili stated to his uncle who began pacing up and down, unsure of what to do for a moment.

"There is an Orc pack on our tail... We will keep moving," he replied to his nephew.

"Where?" Balin interjected.

"Well we keep going, to the mountain, we're so close," Bilbo joined in the conversation from your side.

The conversation went back and forward on what the group should do.

"Bind their wounds, quickly, we cannot wait here we will surely die!" The Dwarven king gave the command and everyone followed the orders, a few questionable grumbles between them, but he was right, the swarm would be on the company in minutes, they needed a miracle.

"You have two minutes!" Thorin barked at the company...

**~POV~**

He watched the group with a dark expression, concealed in the foliage.

Bard had heard the group coming from a mile away, shouting, the sound of clashing steel and battle cries.

The group were trouble and he knew it. He had been waiting for the shipment of barrels to float down the stream so he could pack them onto the barge and deliver them back the Lake Town. He was surprised to find unexpected creatures lurking in them.

Slowly and carefully Bard nocked an arrow into the bow and began to draw it, he advanced on the group while their backs were turned.

He became angered and frustrated when they attempted to take up arms against him. With accuracy that outranked any Elf, he shot one arrow into a thick wooden branch that the large and muscular Dwarf reached for and another into the stone that the young and wounded Dwarf held in his hands before he could give the rock flight.

"Do it again, and you're dead..." Bard spoke with venom at the group, nocking another arrow into his bow and drew it back as far at the string would allow.

The group looked desperately to one another, his eyes scanned them all, thirteen Dwarves, all appearing to be in good health bar one, a Hobbit and another small creature who looked very sick. He couldn't tell what you were, only that you were female by your features and small frame.

Bard quickly learned that the group sought a way to cross the river; the one Bard perceived to be the eldest of the group spoke softly to him, drowning him in flattery, something about their demeanour was very off... Bard didn't like the way they looked and the aura radiating off the group.

They proclaimed to be merchants, simple folk seeking to travel and trade in the Iron Hills. He guessed differently but went along with their story regardless; they offered him money as a way of compensation for his troubles if he decided to help them.

The one the group looked to the most often, their leader he took a guess at, made mention that they needed a safe passage, food and supplies in with his cost.

Bard's mind screamed at him, told him to refuse these Dwarfs; his heart told him a similar story, that they were trouble, but his nature couldn't see them cut down by a pack of rabid Orcs or to be captured and murdered by the Elves, even if he did often to trade with the people of Mirkwood.

"I know where these barrels came from..." he cast a smug expression at the Dwarves, their expressions shifted. “I don't know what business you have with the Elves..." he continued, "but I don't think it ended well."

Their leader wore a cautious expression as Bard addressed him.

"No one enters Lake Town but by leave of the Master... all his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland realm... he will see you all in irons before risking the wrath of king Thranduil."

The Dwarves became desperate now and Bard could sense this would not be an endeavour in which he would come off lightly, but the one who spoke for the group offered to pay him double at mention of smuggling them...

Bard's mind flashed to his family, living in poor conditions from Lake Town's dying economy. The image of his beautiful wife who was taken from him by pestilence and lack of medicine for which they could not afford to acquire at the time of her death...

There was no way he could refuse this offer of money; If not for him them for his family.

"Get on,” he insisted to the Dwarfs. They clambered onto his barge.

**~POV~**

“You need to breathe,” Bilbo insisted. He placed a hand softly on your forehead and he almost looked as if he wanted to draw it back from the heat... but you still felt cold.

“I... I’m fine,” you struggled, your lips were dry and your head felt heavy.

“No...” Bilbo whispered, firmly placing a hand on your face. “Don’t close your eyes,” he held your head up, looking intently into your eyes. “Don’t... don’t you dare close your eyes,” he closed his mouth and opened it again, unsure of what else to say.

Pain. So much pain coursing through your blood, and the pendant was desperately seeking to rid you of it by making your vomit so profusely, some still lingered in your blood, unable to be drawn out... For now you could last a day or two, but you weren’t sure how long you could keep your consciousness before dying from the pain let alone the poison.

You swallowed, every muscle in your body let out a groan of protest as you raised your hand to Bilbo’s neck, drawing his head closer to your own.

“Don’t leave me,” he hushed, barely audible above a whisper.

Bilbo choked on the air he drew in quickly, his chest closing in. He couldn’t bear it, the stress, and the pain of seeing you in such a state. His breath was hard and shallow, against the contrast of your slow and heavy breathing. Your skin was burning at his touch and yet you began to shiver.

 “I promise,” you breathed as you pulled him softly to rest his forehead against your own. 


	11. Purify and Pastures of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I'm so so so so sorry for not updating this sooner, I've been so busy over the last few weeks but I never abandoned this, I've been adding to it whenever I could!  
> Let me know what you think, since I love you all and I value your feedback.  
> Thank you for being so patient with me.

**Purify and Pastures of Gold**

**Chapter Eleven:**

It spluttered out, thick and coarse, leaving a sting in your throat as it founds its way out; blood stained your hands and your mouth as you heaved the contents of your stomach over the side of the boat.

“That’s it lass,” Bofur patted your back lightly, rubbing the top of your shoulders in a circular patter every time your stomach decided to cause an uprising... His eyes were very heavy, he was tired, but he and Bilbo insisted that they stay by your side; both exchanging worried glances when they first spotted the blood.

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, spluttered then wiped your mouth. Your voice was almost at breaking point, your throat was weak, your body was shaking, your skin pallid and almost translucent, sweat dripped from your forehead and dark circles nestled under your eyes. You were the visual definition of dying; Kili’s face slowly turned white too. The poison was working much slower on him.

“What on Middle-Earth for?” Bofur asked, genuinely shocked that you would be apologising.

“For being dumb enough to get shot with a poisoned arrow, for being a burden,” you cast a disappointed expression at Thorin who was watching Bard with cautious eyes; he heard your words... His face turned away from the Bargeman, he motioned swiftly over to you.

For once, you did not fear him, because you had nothing at that instant left to fear.

“You have nothing but my gratitude, _Y/N_, you are no burden; you are burdened with ill luck.” He placed a hand lightly on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes as he spoke. You gave him a small smile and a muttering of thanks.

Bard commanded everyone into the barrels hastily.

Bofur put his hand gently under your arm to keep you upright as he guided you over to the keg, Bilbo steadied the barrel, and you let out a little yelp as Thorin lifted you up and helped you into the wooden drum.

“Thank you,” you offered to the king. He gave you a courteous nod of the head then rushed off to find an empty keg himself.  

**~POV~**

Bofur cast Bilbo another saddened expression, the dwarf lightly grasps Bilbo’s arm.

“Keep her safe lad,” before the hobbit could reply, Bofur had gone off to find a barrel; he could hear a distinct sniff, and Bofur raising an arm to his face...

Bilbo climbed into the same drum you were in, and propped himself next to you, it was a tight fit with both of you there, but he wanted to make sure you were safe and he could tell you wanted company.

He threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you next to him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered softly in your ear. He could feel your body relax against his own.

You let out a small laugh that turned into a fit of harsh coughing.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. Your body drooped heavily against Bilbo’s, and he felt shameful in admitting to himself that he liked how close you were, how he was the one nursing you and comforting you; but something was wrong... your body was growing far too heavy against his to be simply resting.

“No _Y/N_, you don’t have to be sorry for anything...” you cut him off by brushing a hand against his face, and his heart lurched in his chest, making painful twists and skipping beats entirely, there was something in your touch... something that coaxed a fire in his soul.

“I never saw you. Not until now...” Your voice was very weak and full of fight for breath, he wanted to shush you, to place a finger to your lips and keep you from draining your energy, but his selfishness and shyness made him sink away, to sit and listen to your words and to drown in them. “I noticed you, watched you for a long time, but I never saw you for who you really were; I wish I listened to my brother...” blood peeped from the corners of your mouth.

Bilbo wiped it away quickly, his hand lingering on your face for too long, he could feel you burn under his fingertips and then be replaced by a frozen sensation.

“I wish I listened to that idiot when he said I would...”

**~POV~**

The world was growing dimmer and darker still; shadows began to cast over your eyelids and every ounce of your being hurt.

You knew then... that time was up. You were going to die. Nestled beside the fussy Hobbit you let yourself fade away...

Black. And endless void of nothingness, was this the afterlife? Was this eternity?

You sank away feeling so much smaller than you ever did, feeling hopeless, lost, and still writhing in pain. Were you truly dead?

**~POV~**

Bilbo watched the life force leave your body, your last breath had drawn from you and this was it... He had lost you...

"_Y/N_?" He whispered, shock starting to creep in.

"No, no.... no!"

He wanted to scream, wanted to hurt something, someone; the harrowing emptiness filled him quickly. There was so much he wanted to tell you, so many more experiences he wanted to share, and now, sitting in the bottom of a barrel he clung to the lifeless shell that once belonged to your beautiful spirit.

"Oh gods, no, please," he breathed, picking up your arm, looking for a sign of life. He pulled you in closer.

Bard leaned over the side of the keg, wanting to know why Bilbo was being so noisy. His face creased in frustration and then realisation washed over him as he saw Bilbo clutching you tightly, tears flowing freely.

"Is she?" Was all Bard could manage to splutter before the barge pulled into the fisherman's dock.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, looking at Bilbo's pitiful expression. He knew exactly how he felt... at that point, a determined look crossed his features.

"We will give her a proper funeral," He signalled something over to a fisherman.

"Wait here," Bard commanded, before striding over to a greasy and rotund looking man.

**~POV~**

Still, silence; the world felt cold and full of horror in the darkness...

"Hello," your voice rang through the tunnelling black, but to no avail, no-one answered your call, at least... not right away.

"Why do you insist on getting yourself into such a bother?" You knew that voice... it felt as if your memory had been locked away, and you had to search everything inside of you to find it.

A small light filled the emptiness, radiating ethereal from one being.

"Why are you here? Did you die in those caves?" You didn't mean to spit it out the way you did... The one to whom you were addressing was quite taken back.

"Lose your manners when you lost your life, did you?" If you could see his face, you pictured his eyebrow was raised and in place of his expression would be a small wry smile. Melnor.

“No, I just lost my life, I’m filled with great joy,” for some reason sarcasm and hatred began to fill your being, it wasn’t entirely new, you knew how to hate and how to snap your tongue into snake fast quips, but this felt intensified somehow.

“I would choose death over this existence any day; try watching your children die in battle, your father murder in the thousands, exiling yourself to caverns deep within the heart of the earth, being trapped in this being and then dragged from that exile with magic that drains you for the business of Hobbits!” His voice boomed through you, through the darkness and into the chasms beyond this void.

“I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me...” you sank back into the shadows, feeling smaller again under Melnor’s towering height.

“Poison my dear.  Don’t be sorry,” he said in a flat monotone voice.

“So everyone keeps telling me,” you muttered.

“Hmm, indeed. You’re not a sorry creature. It’s just sad that you let a little poison dampen your spirit. No matter, we have things to discuss first, I’m sure I’m not keeping you...” He began to return to his usual self, behind a cheeky glint in his eye and a casual stare as far as you could make out under the shadows.

“No, please, do go on. I’m not sure it would be much use now...” it came out again as unintended but he grunted and smiled.

“More so than you think, child...” He offered you a wry smile. You could see his face fully now in the darkness.

“What... what do you mean? Am I really dead?” You couldn’t fathom his indirectness; there was something to his tone that meant more than he was letting you believe.

“Yes, I’m afraid; dead as a doornail. But it doesn’t mean you will stay that way. Do you remember when I told you where your ancestry lies? It works to its advantages my dear, but only once will it work for you. When you cross this line it takes something from your soul, something that you won’t particularly miss when you return, however it’s still a damage on your spirit nonetheless; it’s a payment, if you will...” it was hard to process his words, but you nodded and tried your best to absorb the knowledge.

“So you’re saying that if I’m to resurrect, something will be taken from my life essence to make the journey?” The cogs in your mind were turning, slowly...

“Yes. Sometimes it’s in the form of a curse, most of the time it’s a part of your memory or your personality. Such is the price we pay to be returned unto life,”

“Will I lead a long life? Given that I’m not shot by a poison arrow, beheaded or mauled, of course.” Well... of course that could happen you weren’t entirely being sarcastic.

“Well, that depends on if you inherit a curse. Given your blood links, I cannot say for sure what burdens you will face; a part of your soul has clung to the amulet I gave you, hence why you are able to make the journey back. Most like a certain ring someone beholds.” Melnor cast you a dark glance but continued. “You understand that you are not immortal. Once you return, the piece that clings to the amulet will be destroyed and that is the piece that holds the price.”

“I... I understand.”

“You may be worrying for nothing of course, maybe it will diminish that silver tongue of yours, and that will do the world a favour!” He barked a laugh; this was the Menor you knew.

“Charming.” You chided.

“I knew this day would come, but I was hoping it would be a few more days down the line. When you awaken my dear, you will see clarity, I will unlock the seal on the amulet that you don’t seem to have unlocked by yourself, disappointingly.” His tone had grown soft once more, setting your nerves at ease, but the thought still lingered in your mind, what did he mean by a blood seal?

“What do you mean?” You voiced your concern.

“There’s a blood seal, you unlocked the healing essence by becoming wounded, you also unlocked the second from when the pendant glows it shows you the way also by this means, but it does not show you truth, not fully, ” Melnor’s demeanour grew more and more relaxed in your presence, you noted that to yourself as he stood closer, his face grew kinder and older, somehow.

“How will I know what’s the truth?” None of this was making sense, you couldn’t understand how the pendant would work in that way, and you thought that when it glowed white hot against your skin that it was guiding you in the direction of the truth...

“You’ll know when it happens; it might be painful to you mortals though,” he gave you a little wink before letting out that familiar hum of laughter like music into the air.

“Wait, if I’m really dead, how is all this possible?” You cocked your eyebrow as if you were somehow missing the obvious.

Again, Melnor laughed. You had to admit to yourself that he came to any family reunion dinner parties you would soon grow very irritated with that sound.

“Do you want to return to the living, or do you want me to spend eternity delving in philosophies with you, dear? As much as I’d like that and your company, you serve a higher purpose. And if you must know, this is your soul. I’m bound to it by blood, remember? And a little harmless magic...” he winked and grinned ad you again.

“You ready?” He asked.

“I suppose so; they haven’t buried me have they?” You cocked your head to the side quizzically.

“We’ll soon find out if you wind up back here in a few moments...” Melnor gave a click of his fingers and the whole void of pitch black became an illuminated field of evergreen pasture and beautiful landscaped. You gave a smug little laugh. This was your soul. It was so innocent and pure.

As if Melnor sensed your train of thought his wicked grin intensified, a ghostly image descended, messy brown hair that curled slightly, pointed ears and deep ocean blue eyes... Bilbo’s image grew from transparent to very real looking, his hand was held extended out to you, and he had a soft warm smile fixed on his face as he beheld you. It was then you noticed the white gown that you were wearing, radiant in the new heavenly light, and Bilbo adorned in beautiful emerald green vest and matching pants, and a cream undershirt with golden leaves stitched into the cloth, a fancy golden pocket watch was strapped to a golden beaded belt... You didn’t realise you had been holding a breath until it escaped you. He looked stunning. That dazzling smile locked onto you.

“_Y/N_,” he greeted.

“You look... wait... are you dead?” You spluttered. Melnor lightly tapped the back of your head.

“Silly woman,” he muttered, but smiled down at you. “Well go on...” he pushed the small of your back with his large hands and you shuffled forward.

“What do I...” Bilbo wrapped his hand lightly around yours and gave it a squeeze before you could finish. The Hobbit pulled you close; his hands released yours to cup your face.

“Come back to me,” he whispered and his mouth cascaded softly onto yours. That definitely gave your heart the kick start it needed. Everything grew light and gentle like a breeze, absorbed into that one moment your body drifted back through the realms of shadow and death and into the light of Arda.

Breath filled your lungs suddenly as you were thrown awake, a burning sensation spreading through your body and slowly it dissipated. No pain, no discomfort, only a pure sense of life and essence began to flow through your body; the world seemed to have a whole new spectrum of colour.

You frightened the life out of the poor Hobbit that sat cradling your once dead body... He was rendered speechless, but it didn’t matter, you were alive, you were there, with him, and finally you didn’t need the warm glow of the pendant to guide you.

“But... You were... Oh god I thought I lost you!” Bilbo breathed a watery sparkle eminent in his eyes.

“I... I guess I came back to you,” and without another word you reached for his face, remembering deathly dreams of emerald, gold and pure white. Your face moved closer and closer, your soul aching for release on these feelings that kept your heart binded in chains.

“I won’t disappear again,” you whispered barely any space between you now.

Both of you leapt back, startled as a voice shattered the moment. “Oh thank the gods!” Bard spoke with a soft whisper. He looked down at you in the keg. “Are you alright?” The bargeman asked as you peered up at him.

“Yes thank you,” you replied, slightly frustrated at him.

“Alright, good, I’m glad you’re safe my lady,” he cast a glance over his shoulder, “Are you still feeling sick?” his concern was not overly necessary but you couldn’t deny you felt a little honoured.

“No longer, I seem to be fine now, why do you ask?” The bargeman gave you a smirk.

“I suggest you hold your nose...” and with that a large and very heavy load of fish was dumped in the keg, covering you and Bilbo entirely with dead trout.

“Wonderful!” You spat, holding your nose and trying to shuffle closer to your Hobbit.

Bilbo let out a little laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he confided in you.

“Well right now, I’m regretting giving up that pretty pasture and your...” your face flushed crimson, and you were glad Bilbo couldn’t see.

“My what?” You could hear that cheeky inquisitiveness to his voice, even though he too, was holding his nose tight.

“Nothing, ask me again and I’ll kill you,” you retorted.

“Right now I’ll take my chances,” Bilbo threw back. You both laughed. Bard kicked your barrel and give you a loud ‘Shhh’ and you both obeyed, to some degree, stifling a small giggle every now and then...


	12. Blood, Lust and Lake Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master of misery and sorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, this is a LONG chapter. Longer than any of the others I've written and I enjoyed every moment of it this is my favourite chapter, writing as different characters gives me great joy and I hope it gives you great joy to read it!  
> As always, please comment.   
> I want to thank every single one of my readers, from the bottom of my hear, thank you for sticking with me this far. I love you all, and without your kind words, I wouldn't have had the will to continue with Lured Astray.

**Blood Lust and Lake Town**

**Chapter 12**

Bard ensured at all of you made it to his house safely by sneaking through the town, not entirely unnoticed, but not enough to draw negative attention, he was however being watched, so his only alternative was to make you all swim undetected and come up through the toilet...

The water was freezing and the stench was unbelievable, and you really were missing that warm feeling of death’s pastured lands and sunshine... But at least it washed away the smell of dead fish that was turning your empty stomach once again.

You batted the child’s hand away that helped you up through the toilet.

“Get off,” you insisted rather rudely. It seems Melnor’s wish about the destruction of your apparent rudeness hadn't been the shattering piece of your soul. You were starting to believe that there was no price to pay or if you had paid it, it was probably a bad memory you wouldn't miss any time soon...

Inside was a little warmer, but not as you would have liked it, you all took turns to sit around the fire, hoping it would dry you off, but to no avail. It was then that Bard offered you all some spare clothing, possibly his children’s attire...

You didn't want to give up your beloved Elven outfit, but considering Lake Town may well be the end of your journey, you would simply wash them tomorrow when everyone left... at least this way you had a change of clothes...

“Erm, Bard... do you have somewhere more private?” You cleared your throat, and several Dwarves looked at you then a faint pink stained their cheeks.

“You can use the toilet?” He offered you a cheeky smirk, and you cursed under your breath but nodded.

“As long as I don’t have to go through it, I’m sure it will suffice, thank you,” you took your leave away from the prying eyes and went back down the way you came up to find the toilet and to change. You had to admit, the dress that Bard had given you was very nice, it must have belonged to his daughter who had seemingly outgrown it as the youngest one was a little taller than you.

It was a soft pastel blue with amber stitched patterns that had faded into an array of orange and yellow colours but it was still very wonderful; around the hem and cuffs of the fabric there was a small fold of fur. You pulled the dress down over your head and struggled to put your arms into the sleeves as your body was still very tired. Fighting every ache and protest you wriggled into the surprisingly good fit of the clothing.

You found two pins on your way back upstairs and fashioned your hair into a loose braid, something in Thorin's eyes told you he had a fierce plan that involved two very light on their feet Hobbits and you couldn't let your now somewhat wild hair get in the way, it had been months since it had seen a good brush and a decent poppy oil shampoo!

You came back up to find everyone had changed out of their wet clothes... Your eyes hovered just a little too long on the beautiful blue jacket Bilbo was fashioning rather well. He noticed you staring but you didn't look away, he held your gaze for the longest most intense second, almost as if he was thinking the same thing about you...

**~POV~**

Bofur watched as you entered the room. You looked flawless in the pastel blue gown, a soft hush had descended on the room as all the younger Dwarves looked to you... But you, didn't so much as give them a glance, your eyes were fixed on someone else entirely. Bofur felt a painful sting in his heart, finally you looked at him and his heart sank further, you only gave him a warm smile... Not that he minded a warm smile, but he didn't get that intense stare of longing.

He returned the smile and then decided in his mind that he would let you go... He had almost lost you as a friend once today, if he could just have you in his life as a friend... That would mean the world to him.

He let out a soft sigh and turned his attention back to Thorin who was plotting and devising something under his breath, staring out the window to the foot of the lonely mountain, holding the key to his lips as if he could taste the sweet success of this perilous quest drawing it’s icy talons to a close around the fire breathing Dragon.

A heated conversation broke out between Thorin and Bard about the aim of men and the protection of Erabor under the watch of Dale. Bard still didn't understand... Not who Thorin was, nor why he was in Lake town, hiding.

“We need weapons,” he insisted to Bard who eyed him cautiously.

“Wait here,” he insisted; when he came back with the pitiful arsenal he deemed to be weapons the group let out a collective and angry ruckus.

“This won’t do, we need forged weapons, blades! Not fishing hooks and pike hooks!” Thorin spat, thrusting the wooden pole with a sorry excuse for a danger to a dragon attached to the end.

“They are under lock and key in the armoury!” Bard insisted.

“Then we go there, now,” Thorin spoke in a dark tone. Something in his face had changed and Bofur knew it, his king was different, a whole new weight rested on his broad shoulders.

“No!” Bard commanded. Bofur watched his king with apprehension; no one spoke to Thorin in such a manner. Even if they didn't know he was the Dwarven King. “The armoury is guarded, and someone will see you, if you go, you go at nightfall.”

“Very well,” Thorin agreed in a dark tone, still giving Bard an icy dagger like glare.

Bofur couldn't help but think what you would make of this all, he didn't mean to but his eyes flickered over to you and you caught his very brief stare. Your eyebrows were arched into a sad expression, he wanted to do something, to say anything, but now was not the time... Heck, was there ever a good time to talk to you?

You and Bilbo were his friends. And although there was a great pain in his heart, he repeated over and over to himself that he was happy for the both of you.

**~POV~**

You caught Bofur's eyes upon you and your heart sank, he gave you a forgiving smile but somehow that only made it worse, the feeling in your gut... You couldn't reciprocate his feelings for you, once you thought you could...

You turned your attention once again towards Thorin and his plot to break into the armoury and steal weapons, not that you had any need, Harmony rested by your side where she was meant to be.

Nightfall came hastily unto Middle Earth as summer had drawn its flowery curtains and winter was upon the land, spreading its cold, merciless wings.

You let out a little shiver into the night’s air. Thorin ushered you all close as you watched the guards from a corner, they left the armoury and locked it tight. Thorin cursed under his breath, they had no tools to pick these locks...

“I’ll go and see if there’s another way in,” and before Thorin could agree or protest you made for a few kegs to conceal yourself, watching carefully from the shadows for folks rounding the corners, you hopped along the wooden decks with ease, quietly and gracefully, you had resorted earlier that evening to taking off the wonderfully warm shoes that had dried quite nicely by the fire! Oh the God’s how you wished for something warm to soothe the cold ache of the floor.

You came across a window; it was small by Men’s standards but large enough for even the biggest Dwarf in your company to fit through, perfect!

You decided it would be best not to jump back through the shadows of the docks, you hooted like an own to signal them. You hoped at least one of them would have their wits enough to sense you were beckoning them...

Sure enough the group, not so silently as you had been, crept across the docks, ducking and weaving their way through various obstacles before reaching you.

“Well that’s great, y/n, but how are we supposed to climb up there...” Bofur placed a hand on your shoulder and you shuddered.

“A Dwarf tower,” you gave him a wry grin and the others all turned to look at one another, confusion turning into a gleeful expression as they got to work making a tower of Dwarves like a ramp.

Everyone was in place and before Thorin even said go, you ran and clambered up the Dwarves with ease, a few of them at the bottom let out a soft groan, but you were the lightest of the bunch they would thank their God’s you went first instead of Dwalin or Thorin...

The room was dark and dank, it smelt of fish, as everything in Lake Town did, but this was far more repulsive than the usual smell. You made for the arsenal you could see hanging on the walls, in followed Nori Kili and Fili, then Dwalin and Thorin then Bilbo and Bofur.

Casting a glance in Kili's direction, the Dwarf didn't look well... It was then that it hit you. A white hot flash like someone had hit you over the head with an axe, you saw white, your vision faded entirely, you saw her, the beautiful she elf, Tauriel and a blinding star, the power of Elven magic healing a dire wound, and raging fire... flames reaching high into the night, the roar of an angry dragon, everything was fragmented into nonsensical images thrown together, that somehow made sense...

“What’s wrong with her?” The world you cascaded into through your mind was coming back to reality by voices, familiar voices at that.

“Y/N,” that voice was familiar indeed, “Can you hear me lass?” As quick as the world grew white darkness of night descended once more, your body felt heavy and wracked with pain your head howled. You decided to keep quiet about the vision for the time being. A warm glow rested on your neck...

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” you breathed, still winded from the vision.

“Your eyes went all white and... strange, what on earth happened?” Bofur whispered.

“There’s no time for this now,” Thorin commanded in a low growl. “All of you be quiet, Kili, Y/N, can you both walk?” Kili muttered that he was fine and you nodded and gave a small nod. Thorin plonked a selection of heavy weapons on your both; you all made for the stairs in a hurry.

Kili all of a sudden became faint and lost his footing at the top of the stairs and toppled down like a broken toy, the weapons falling with him creating and almighty racket!

The guards came back before you could all scatter back through the windows or make for the door, or even hide... They came ready and armed before anyone besides you could draw or take up a weapon. You unsheathed your sword fiercely, stepping in front of Thorin and swiping the blade away from its place resting towards his throat. The guardsman grunted and then laughed.

“We got us a live on ‘ere!” The guard mocked you, he foolishly turned his head and you made quick work to slice open his cheek... A feral anger took over your entire body and this new found confidence astonished you, or it would when you had time to think and adrenaline wasn't coursing through your veins.

“You little...” The man lunged after you, and you parried back, causing him to run into the wall, looking a complete fool as his commanding officer stood to attention at the top of the stairs.

“When you’re quite finished Bosoron, you ingrate,”

You gave a low glare at the guards, but the captain with a flick of his sword disarmed you in an instant. 

"You'd be wise not to resist," he said in a bored tone. "Seize them," he commanded his guards and they obeyed with great pleasure. 

"Tell me, what are a band of Dwarves and two runt Hobbit's doing this far away from home?" The captain commanded. You let out a small grunt when he called you and Bilbo 'runts' but you persisted in keeping your head held high, you had done your best to protect the Dwarven King. Not that he would thank you for it though...

"That's none of your concern," Thorin spoke in his regal manner. 

"However, it is the concern of the Master," He looked over the group. "Your comrades outside have all been captured too, you will answer for your crimes to the Master, take them to him, immediately." This was definitely a man vying for approval from the head of the lake... He probably didn't have many friends in these parts you thought to yourself. 

You were all dragged and paraded through the streets like common thugs, people leered at you all, snarling with their rotten teeth and their withered faces. This was a poverty ridden town like you had never seen before... It startled you a little at how savage these people were... But you held your head high once more, as did the King. He had a plan...

Gathered around a large grand looking house that was out of place among all the townsfolk's homes, the Master of the Lake waddled out of his home to look upon all the commotion. 

"What on earth is the meaning of all this?!" He demanded. He was fat and balding, unlike the towns people who were all bones and no meat. This man was hated, you could see it in the people's eyes with the way they looked upon him. 

"They were caught trying to steal weapons from the armoury Sire!" The captain barked, shoving you forward. "This one even raised arms,"

"Enemies of the state! I'll have a good mind to see you all in chains!" He eyed all of the company, before Dwalin spoke, angered by the treatment of his King. 

"Hold your tongue! You do not know to whom you speak!" The large Dwarf growled. "This is no common criminal! This is Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

The Master eyed them all and you very carefully, the words beginning to sink in. Thorin stepped forward to look upon the master and to address the crowd. 

"We are the Dwarves of Erabor, we have come to reclaim our homeland..." There were loud mutterings amongst the crowd, but they looked upon Thorin with distaste, mostly... He began to win the townsfolk over talking about how they were the centre of all trade within the North, how fine silks and beautiful gems used to arrive by boats and how the city gleamed in wealth and prosperity, the crowd began cheering and shouting in joyful expressions of glee...

"Death!" The voice came over the crowd in a wave of anger and danger, bursting through the cries of the townsfolk easily, he began pushing past people in his outrage against Thorin. "That is what you will bring upon us!" Everyone fell silent now, their attention turned towards their town champion, Bard. "Dragonfire and ruin! If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all!" His brows were furrowed downwards in annoyance, and Thorin's lips twitched into a grimace, but that regal wall returned as he lifted his head to the crowd. 

"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the mountain.You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" He lifted his balled fists to the sky in triumph and the crowd hollared and cheered once again. 

Bard fought for their attention, for their common sense, but to no lasting avail.

"All of you! Listen to me, you must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose?" Quiet fell once more as he asked the people, but not everyone was convinced. You stepped further towards the king, you failed in trying to remain neutral, your loyalty was with the king on this one. 

"The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!" Bard finished his question rather loudly pointing his fingers at Thorin. His face becoming red and twisted. You gave the bargeman a hard stare. You knew Thorin wouldn't forsake anyone for greed...

Just as the townsfolk looked as if they wanted to collect their pitchforks and light a bonfire on both sides, the Master shot Bard's accusations down in an instant. 

"Let us not forget, that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!" He pointed a fat finger at Bard and the Master's henchman with his greasy black hair and sunken features piped up, his eyes full of hate towards bard. 

" It's true, Sire. We all know the story. Arrow after arrow, he shot. Each one missing its mark..." The town were won over. That was it. Thorin had triumphed in the argument and getting to Erabor would be easier now. You let out a heavy sigh. 

Bard stepped closer to Thorin, his face venomous with spite.

"You have no right. No right to enter that mountain..." His shoulders were moving up and down heavily, the anger radiating off him. At that moment, your annoyance turned to pity. He was concerned for his family and the well being of the Lake people... 

Thorin cast a glance up at him, his eyes dark and his face seemed to age instantly. 

"I have the only right," his tone was so low it was barely audible, dangerous, but you shivered. You feared for anyone who got on the wrong side of Thorin Oakenshield, and you weren't about to become one of them.

The Master welcomed you all to his humble abode, everyone shuffled inside, now free from their captors; the halls were adorned with tapestries of former Masters of the Lake, some also of the former wealth of Lake Town. Pity twisted in your stomach for these people, another reason why you wanted Thorin to succeed!

The floor creaked beneath your feet and there was a damp air about the place, but in comparison to the dwelling of the Master's people, you feared any small wealth that floated through the town was sought after and given to none other than him... No wonder they were willing to risk Bard's warning to be given a small glimmer of hope. Right now, they had none...

"I welcome you to my home Thorin Oakenshield, I will admit it has seen better days, but I will prepare a feast immediately, all the ale you can drink and all the food you can devour, I'm sure you're famished!" With that, several guards hurried off, many of them were pushing back the people that were trying to get inside the Master's home, while the few spare rushed into the pantries to rustle up whatever they could find that was at least fitting for a King.

Bilbo trotted up beside you so his footsteps fell in line with yours. 

"Looks like something has gone right for a change, I'm starving," he rubbed his stomach a little and gave you a small smile, you returned it, but your appetite was none existent. 

"So are the towns people," you muttered. "We dine in lavish quarters while they starve on the streets by force of their 'Master', it seems a bit... fishy to me," Bilbo returned your quip with a smirk, what a terrible pun... 

"That was awful," Bilbo spoke, still grinning. 

"I know," You looked at the way his eyes glittered. They were beautiful, and just like that your worries dissipated. 

"I understand though, but when we succeed, and not if we succeed, because no doubt we will, this town won't go hungry again, I have faith that Thorin will see this place restored." You nodded in agreement. 

Both of you chatted a little among yourselves until you were seated in the dining quarters, servants with large dark circles under their eyes, probably woken up to be given orders rushed around, pouring ale and darting to and fro from the kitchen with all sorts of fish and vegetables, laying them on the table. 

The food depleted rather quickly with all the hungry Dwarves and one incredibly hungry Hobbit beside you, the servants looked upon the food, you could see the hunger in their eyes. A small child walked up beside your chair and offered you a small plate of potatoes, you looked around at the drunken folk, even the Master wasn't paying much heed to anything that was going on, he was trying his hardest to impress Thorin, so you looked upon the child with kind eyes. 

"Take them to the kitchen sweetie and eat them to yourself," the child's eyes looked wild upon your request, but his eyes flickered over to the Master, and he rushed off into the kitchen, clutching the plate and whispering a very small thank you. 

**~POV~**

His head was spinning, the room was blurry and everything felt fantastic for a few brief moments, even though his heart felt like it had been ripped out through his chest and torn into pieces, but somehow the alcohol and the food made him feel more comfortable with this feeling, and slightly more numb. But as ever, Bofur would just resign to his positive nature and carry on with his life, surrounded by his wonderful friends and his family. He was going to march into the home of his father's and lay waste to that foul creature that lay sleeping upon the kingdom! He would be one of the 15 heroes that reclaimed Erabor!

Yes. He felt slightly more fantastic... But then you waltsed by and that feeling came crashing down again... He would have to be brave, maybe he was being jealous for no reason?! Yes, that had to be it. Maybe Bilbo hadn't claimed your love, not yet. 

He watched you walk towards the door, he pushed his seat back and rose, staggering at first but then he composed himself... This was it. The moment of truth... 

His heart was in his mouth and beating faster than usual, at least that had proven it did still work after all. 

He saw you slip through the doors and go out to the veranda. His feet began to betray his sense of will, they slowed to a halt, he held his hand out towards the door, his gloved fingers curling around the handle...

"You can do it lad," Balin was looking very cheerful. His nose was a bright shade of red and his eyes half open. "You can tell her how you feel, but if she doesn't feel the same, trust me, it's not the end of the world, you'll feel better in time," Bofur looked Balin in the eyes, all his wisdom and all his experiences, the toy maker felt reassured at least. 

"Thanks," he muttered, sucking in a heavy breath.

Now. Or. _Never_. 

He breathed out and clasped the handle harder.

He pushed the door open and ventured out into the cool night air, it stung his warm face a little, but he shrugged it off. His slightly drunken mind had other things to worry about. You didn't turn to face him; Oh you looked so beautiful bathed in moonlight and the glow of torches, staring up into the night sky, absorbed by it's beauty, while Bofur's eyes stared at the unreachable world before him... His chest _ached_ again and he clutched at his clothes. He went from feeling cold to warm and very sweaty in an instant. 

His throat felt coarse and dry, the words didn't want to spill out... He opened his mouth only to close it again. And again. and again.

"Y/N..." He felt small now, he wished in his mind that he didn't speak. He’d give anything now to back away and return to drinking his sorrows away. 

You turned and his stomach knotted. Why did you have this sort of power over him? He of all people, who was as careless about the woes of the world as the wind! Just carrying on regardless of what problems stood in the way...

**~POV~**

You heard him speak, pulling you out of the trance that the stars had laid upon your mind. You didn't expect anyone to follow you outside, you didn't really want anyone's company right now, everyone was drinking themselves into a coma and you had already drunk enough that it made your head spin the room into strange patterns. 

When you looked upon his face it was evident that he was hurting...

“I... I uhh,” His eyes were frantically searching around the night, anywhere but your face. “I came out to get some fresh air; it’s getting a bit crowded in there...” You watched as Bofur back up to the door.

“Wait,” you called after him and his eyes snapped back to fix themselves upon your face.  You had no idea what you were doing, the world was spinning... The drink made it easier to say what you wanted to say, how you were going to apologise... That familiar hot sensation clung around your neck; this was the right thing to do... “Please, Bofur, I’m sorry we've been distant these last few weeks... It’s just... It was never an easy decision, I never wanted t make it, I love you both!” And for the first time in a very long time, you began to cry. You felt weak in crying, but you didn't know what else to do...

**~POV~**

You looked so vulnerable with your head in your hands, a far cry from the fierce and brave Hobbit he had grown so fond of. Those words made his chest flutter and skip a beat. He couldn't help but feel ashamed of his selfish desires. Dwarves were known for their greed and his surfaced quickly, he motioned closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders; he pulled you into a light embrace.

“It’s okay lass, shhh...” you continued to sob into his chest. He welcomed the contact, his head and heart screaming at him _yearning_ and _aching_... Oh god’s forgive him for his weakness, Bilbo was his friend but you... he loved you more than any share of gold or treasure, more than any Dwarf maiden he had ever laid eyes on, more than any possession he owned. He wanted you to be his.

Your crying subsided and he looked down at you, though there wasn't a substantial height difference, your head leaned up to meet his gaze.

“Bofur, I’m sorry...” He couldn't help it; maybe it was the wine and the strong ale brew... He leaned down, his breath merging with yours, his eyes lolling shut... His grasp tightening around that world within his arms that beckoned him... almost within his reach...


	13. Innocent Criminals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sososososo sorry I haven't updated in a few weeks it's been crazy haha.  
> But here it is chapter 13!  
> Please, as usual comment and Kudos, it's very much appreciated.  
> Thank you to everyone who has stuck with Lured Astray this far! I love you all!

**Chapter 13**

**Innocent criminals.**

**~POV~**

Where were you? Bilbo pondered to himself, rather drunkenly. He hiccuped a few times and scrunched up his face, trying to erase the blur forming around the edges of everything. Hopping up onto his bare feet he staggered around, looking for your beautiful presence...

He looked through the kitchen, you weren't here, only a small boy curled up in the corner fast asleep, holding his slightly protruding belly. He searched the hallway thinking you might be admiring the tapestries, but nothing, he resigned himself to looking back in the hall for you… For all his searching you might have gone back to the feast.

You weren't there either... He looked around, half out of his mind with alcohol and unexplained sadness, where had you gone?

He looked around to all the Dwarves, Bofur was missing too...

His heart sank... He noticed a half open door leading out onto the veranda... He pushed himself up onto his feet once more, making a start for the door, he was of course an esteemed burglar and he needed to be silent. He noticed a small dark crook in the room where he could conceal himself for a second to slip on the ring!

Nobody was watching; he made sure of that, there was a loud crash as Ori fell over and Bilbo used the distraction; he slipped on the ring and he was now invisible to the world. He rushed over towards the door and slipped through the crack.

Bofur and you were embracing on the balcony, you were stifling small sobs into his chest, whispering 'Sorry', but what had you to be sorry for? Bilbo's mind was screaming that this wasn't right, this didn't look at all right! 

He watched, helpless and miserable as Bofur took your face in his hands, leaning over you. Everything was happening in slow motion... He knew Bofur had feelings for you, but he wasn't sure if you returned them, he wanted to look away but he also had to know...

"Bofur, please stop," you moved your head back and placed a finger to the Dwarfs lips. Bilbo's heart began to beat again, he was sure you were going to hear him breathing heavily into the night air or see his hot breath against the cool, crisp air. 

**~POV~**

Your chest gave an almighty crunch as it stopped beating. What was he doing? Your mind was racing and all you could think of was Bilbo... Bofur's expression cycled through shock, hurt and then shame, he pushing himself back, his hands holding you at arms length as he studied your face, your expression. 

"I... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me," Bofur couldn't look you in the eyes any more, he averted his gaze.

"I forgive you, you're a little dizzied on wine," you spoke softly trying to coax his attention back to your eyes. You still wanted this brilliant Dwarf to be your friend; you couldn't bear to lose him from your life entirely. But the decision was his...

"That's not it," he groaned, looking at the floor. "I... I thought if I told you how I felt, if I... had shown you how I felt, you might just... Urgh I'm a fool," when the dwarf finally looked at you, his eyes were full of hurt; an alien expression of sadness that didn't suit him well was eminent on his wonderful features. 

"No, don't you dare feel any shame!" Your voice was sincere but strong. "Honestly, I'll take a vow never love anyone if all it brings to them is pain, I love you as my friend Bofur, when you reclaim Erabor you'll forget about silly, little me! You'll marry a beautiful lady I'm certain of it!" You were trying your hardest to be encouraging but it didn't look as if it was working.

"None of them will be you..." He looked solemnly at you. 

"Please Bofur. You will always have me as a friend! You said that to me once by the camp fire. No matter what I did... You would always be my friend."

"I... I don't know if I can keep that promise. Even though you and Bilbo are my friends this pains me more than I ever imagined." He let go of your shoulders and walked more soberly back inside the Master's mansion leaving you speechless and full of regret.

You hesitated for a few seconds before your necklace started glowing; that bitter fog merging with your mind...

"I know you're there, take it off," nothing happened. 

You sighed and suddenly Bilbo appeared from the shadows in an instant, it startled you a little. 

"How long were you there?" You watched him as he averted his attention towards the floor, shuffling his hairy feet. 

"Long enough," He replied. 

"And?" He stared at you in confusion. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just wondered where you were and I saw that you and Bofur were..."

You sighed. The darkness of that cursed object was weighing down on you, its power radiating after Bilbo’s use. Abruptly your annoyance turned to anger. 

"You had no right to spy. Nor should you use that object for selfish desire! I'm not some creature for you all to pick at, could none of you give me the respect and decency to be alone for five minutes?!" The words burst out of your mouth; in your head you couldn't control them as they flowed like poisonous water from a blackened waterfall. 

Bilbo's eyes were wide, but that faint shadow cast over his face once again... Giving him far more confidence than any Hobbit should be granted. 

"No. I couldn't. I needed to know if you were in love with Bofur," his back straightened, giving him more height, if only a little, he raised his chin proudly.

"Why? What would it matter if I was? It's my choice, my decision, my life, you won't lead it for me, I've had a mother to do that for me for the last 40 years by locking me in my own home!" You growled and moved towards him, standing closely like a moth drawn to a flame... "None of you have any right, I've never known freedom and I won't let any of you slam a ball and chain on me!" 

"I did need to know! You can't just string everyone along in believing that they might have a chance with you because in the end, we will all grow tired of chasing your tail." That stung, right at your core. Those words burned. All you wanted to do now was to hurt him back!

"Maybe I didn't want either of you in the first place, think that one over," Oh you were fuming at him, how dare he say that to you! You never asked for them to fall in love with you. You didn't want either of them to, you didn't want to fall in love with them back, it made everything ultimately more complicated and forever full of pain for one or the other or both! No matter what you did... One of them was going to get hurt and you wouldn't wish that on anyone. 

"Fine," he spat at you. He was fumbling with the ridiculous ring in his pocket; it annoyed you to no end. "If that's the way you want to be, fine."

"You got the answer you wanted! Admit it, how happy were you when I pushed that poor Dwarf away? Now I've lost a friend and a true and kind one at that!" 

"It's not kind to take advantage of your friend's suffering..." 

"And you haven't been trying to do that? Every opportunity you get?"

Bilbo huffed and gave you an angry glower. You had stepped over the line and you knew it, but with your will bending to suit the dark force seeping out of the male Hobbit’s pocket you didn't care, you wanted to hurt him and you were certain he wanted to hurt you.

He disappeared.

He slipped the ring back onto his finger and you weren't sure where he went after that... You could feel that it was away from you because your mind regained control of itself and you were left cold and alone.

This... This was how you wanted it to be in the first place.

Lonely. Afraid. Saddened. Everything ached.

“There you are you little runt!” A voice came from the door.

For the love of Arda, could you not enjoy the stars in peace?!

You looked up at the man towering above you, a scabbing scar running across his cheek. “You filthy little bitch, who do you think you are?” He stunk of ale and other unpleasant bodily odours... He was clutching a bottle in his right hand and his left hand rested on the pommel of his sword.

Suddenly you were afraid... In the armoury you had brave and fierce dwarves to protect you, who made you feel brave, out here you were off guard and vulnerable. The noise seeping from the door was enough to drown out your shouting.

All you could do was compose yourself, falsely.

“I am armed and dangerous, that’s who I am! My friend’s in there won’t take kindly to you picking fights with a lady!” You growled, your tone completely betraying you.

He laughed; showing is black teeth and ageing, lined face.

“You ‘ain't no danger bitch, pipe down. You’re friend’s can’t hear you all the way out here, can they?” He struck your face with the back of his gloved hand, everything flicked between white and black, your cheek burned in an instant and you couldn't see. In a literal blind panic you reached for your sword, but staggered, the man leered over you laughing louder.

“No one’s gonna save you now, bitch!” He struck you again and again, until you could taste blood. The world was fading and you began fighting for breath, clawing to stay conscious. The pommel of his sword found your stomach and you keeled over in agony that you had never experienced. You had fell out of many trees and winded yourself, but being struck by a towering man with a sword, drunken and bent on revenge...

You passed out.

You had realised you passed out because your body was wracked with pain. You felt paralysed, your head began to pulsate and protest at you opening your eyes, but slowly the memory returned and your eyes flung wide open.

You were locked in a cell, the iron bars were sealed shut and the walls were stone, hard rock and jagged.

‘Stay calm. Get up,’ you willed yourself to try and sit up at least.

You tried with all your might to move, but the pain was just too overwhelming. Cheering and shouts of joy permeated the air and flowed in through the small barred window of the cell. You could hear cries of good will being called to Thorin and company...

Your heart stopped. 

They were leaving without you. 

That was enough to push past the pain and resolve your lacking willpower, you pushed yourself up off the bed and clambered onto the hard mattress, you could just see the top of peoples head's in the distance, looking upon the lake... The cheering began to fade and you knew... it was too late. They were gone. 

You choked back a cry of anguish and anger. If you caught the guard that put you in here... you were going to do more than slice his face open! 

You jumped off the bed and made a start for the door, there was no use in trying to bargain with any of these half witted lake guards... None of them were in the prison holding, and as far as the silence echoing down the cell block was concerned... you were imprisoned alone.

'There must be a way to pick the lock!' Your head was screaming. The lock looked old and rusty. You looked around the tiny -even by Hobbit's standards- cell and found... Nothing.

You slumped against the wall next to the door, defeated.

It happened again…

 White. Endless white, hot and heavy in your mind, spreading the sensation throughout your already aching body. You saw flame and fire, burning, screams. Children were crying and the townsfolk were on fire! Weapons flying and an almighty evil overhead. You saw Bard, imprisoned in his cell, shouting miserably, the names of his children. 

Wreck and ruin befell the town and Orcs descended from the north!

Wreck and ruin befell the town and Orcs marched on to the mountains, screaming death upon the line of Durin...

You snapped back to reality as your eyes rolled forward; panting and tired, pain spreading throughout your body once more you passed out, blood streaming down your nose, your ears were burning red and your limbs were heavy.

Night had come when you awoke, shouts came bellowing from the cell next door and the rattling of the iron bars. But no-one was listening to him. You recognised the voice that was tinged with a hint of ruggedness, it belonged to Bard. You didn't know what to do or say in this situation, you were captured and locked away the same as him, no words you offered would help...

Then you remembered the vision, Smaug was coming.

"Do you not see what is coming?!" Bard shouted as if linking to you telepathically through the cell... Which, of course was impossible.

You ran your fingers through your thick hair, up over the two pins you fastened in them the day before... Your hands stopped there. The pins!

You skilfully jumped up on to your feet, keeping yourself hidden behind the wall, you reached your small arms out and upwards towards the lock and fumbled with the pins, pulling them, rather painfully, out of your hair. You began work immediately, holding one pin up to twist the inside of the lock around and the other to click the mechanisms inside...

All those days of being locked inside that wretched Hobbit hole... All those miserable days spent looking out the windows of your home, the doors locked, and the key to the window long since buried... Pins and other tiny objects hidden away from you, none of it ever stopped you from trying those locks with whatever you could find. She could never keep you locked away forever, and neither could these half witted Lake men.

_Click!_

The lock was free! You eased the creaking door open, and slipped out into the shadows of the hallway, you could see at the end of it the Master and his men were all drinking themselves into a rowdy celebration, shouting of wealth and riches, and calling Thorin all names under the sun! Your anger flared and you quickly flung the pins into the locks on Bard's cell.

"What are you doing?" He whispered.

"Shhh, you'll get us caught, I'm getting you out of here, and you were unfortunately right Bard. Smaug is coming and he's not the least of our concern either!" The lock clicked. You smiled triumphantly. You were amazingly fast and skilled at this...

He pulled open the cell door and it creaked. Both of you winced, you stared down the end of the hall, but no-one was paying attention, their well lit room was casting a darker shadow over the narrow jail hallway. Perfect.

Bard pushed the door again and it opened with less protest this time, he slipped out elegantly.

"Run," he whispered. Your feet were much more silent than his, but both of you were drowned out by the now singing drunk guardsmen. You reached the end of the hall and Bard twisted the handle of the door before you both heard a shout.

"The prisoner's are escaping, Sire!" The Master's lead henchman with his leering face and rotten teeth pointed a bony finger at Bard and you. The bargeman grabbed your hand and pulled you through the door, shutting it behind him.

"Lock them in!" He insisted rather loudly at you, you let go of his hand, the pins in your other and you quickly flipped and clicked the pins inside the lock, Bard held the heavy wooden door closed as a brute force pushed against it, but he held it just barely with his foot and his whole weight thrown to it. You twisted the lock shut just in time as the guards were moving back to take another run up.

You heard a thud and several groans as the guards fell to the floor on the other side.

"Quickly, I need to find my son, some of your friends remained behind," He made a start for the stairs and you followed close behind.

"How many of them?" You asked.

"Four I think," he lifted a hand in front of him quickly to signal you to stop. You smacked into his hand and grunted.

"Shhhh!" He hissed. You could see a shadow at the top of the stairs, a figure of a guardsman on watch. You reached out for your sword, but in all your misery in the cell... you didn't realise she was gone!

"Drat!" you whispered loudly, earning an annoyed stare from Bard.

**~POV~**

Bard searched for an alternative escape, but the only way out was up the stairs. He would have to overpower the guard to escape and drag the Hobbit with him! He didn't think you would be of much use, given your height and your frame... He crept up the stairs slowly, you followed behind him. Your footsteps were so silent.

All of a sudden you rushed past him, and in a blind panic he sprinted up the stairs after you, he watched in the shadows as you kicked the guard in the leg, you were offering yourself up as bait! Bard lunged up the last step with his long legs and made a fist, landing a heavy blow to the guard's face. The young guard soared backwards and onto a pile of crates and fishing nets, out cold.

"Where's that inbred guard ‘Bosoron’?" You leered.

"Probably locked up in the jail, why?" Bard raised an eyebrow.

"He has my sword!" You barked.

"We'll worry about that later, now come with me!" He grabbed your hand again and weaved through the streets he knew so well. Every time you both saw a guard fly past, you both put your backs against a wall and peeped around the corner to see if he was still there, before continuing on to Bard's house.

Bard dragged you like a rag-doll until finally you saw the house you recognised, Bard let out a heavy sigh. The door was open, and light was blaring from inside, shouts could be heard. Bard wasted no time in rushing through the front door. Two Dwarves were heaving a dead Orc towards the doorway.

"What's going on here?!" Bard demanded, the Dwarves looked around to see the bargeman, his hands perched on the door frame and his body looming angrily at their violation of his house.

"Orcs attacked, you can calm yourself, we saved your children's lives..." Fili was preparing his weapons, keeping an eye on the windows and the new hole in the roof. Bard's gaze followed the blonde Dwarf's and he frowned.

"You Dwarves have bought hell upon this town, you've doomed us all!" Bard's features portrayed him as seething hate at these troublesome creatures until the Elf maiden he had not seen addressed the angry bargeman.

"I think you will find that you owe these Dwarves a great deal, if not your life. They defended your children; Orcs are coming down from the mountains not for simple quests of a greedy King." Bard cautiously stepped into his own home, his daughters looked shocked and frightened, holding each other, and the youngest one’s eyes were puffy and red. 

Bard looked to his son who was standing tall. He didn't want to frighten them further with more grave news... Smaug was coming; he and his family were in grave danger. 

"The heirloom, where did you put it?" Bard demanded of his son. 

"I uh," Bard's son looked towards the Dwarves and then back to his father who nodded for him to continue. "I put it in one of the small fishing boats outside the tavern, it was the..." The boy's eyes trailed up into the corner as he stared at nothing in-particular, counting with his fingers. "Second one the right, under some fishermen's net. No-one saw me put it there," Bard nodded approval. 

"Come with me, we need to find it,"

"I hardly think now is the time to seek out valuable possession, we have Orc's aiding the town!" Fili shot at the bowman with distaste. 

"This heirloom will save your life, now I suggest you ready yourselves for a fight,"

**~POV~**

You had been standing outside the bargeman's house, no-one had noticed you, at least you hoped not as you remained behind the door as Bard stood in the doorway and you kept your eyes fixed on the mountain. A flash of gold caught your attention, and then followed by the faintest sound of thunder, rousing your suspicions as there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The gleam grew brighter and brighter; a dark shadow moved across the sky of deep blue.

Smaug was coming. 


	14. Darkest hours an unlikely friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly let me say how FREAKING SORRY I AM! I didn't intend for this to take so long! I have a valid excuse though, I joined the Navy and I've been away for 8 months so I haven't had a chance to do much editing, I'm currently writing everything on my iPad, which is a nightmare for me personally to do any work on, so I write incoherent dribble and edit it on my Laptop when I'm home!   
> I did re write these chapters too since the movie also came out, so it coincides with it like I first intended.   
> I hope you enjoy the rest of the story it will come to a close soon enough.

**POV~**

His feet couldn't stop, he paced along the mountainside watching in horror as Smaug laid waste to the wooden town floating atop the water. He remembered the last time he had spoken to you outside the hall, blinded with drunken enamour. He wanted to punch the stone walls, he wanted to kick something, scream, or just simply place his head in his hands and weep. But instead he couldn't tear his eyes from the burning buildings and the image forming in his mind of you faking victim to a bloodthirsty dragon.

"She'll make it laddie, they all will. Have faith." Balin tried to calm the twitchy Hobbit's nerves but it just made him snap.

"How can you expect me to have any faith after what we've unleashed upon that town? There's no way she can emerge from this alive! I -" his voice calmed a little, his eyes darted all over the place and he hunched forward, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. "I can't forgive myself for what I've done."

"She signed the contract, she knew what she was getting herself in for, we all knew the risks..." Thorin interjected with a cold, dark tone.

Bilbo returned his gaze to the town aflame.

**POV~**

Fire and ruin. Within minutes the town was a roaring inferno, Tauriel had readied a boat and Bard ordered his children to accompany the Dwarves to safe passage, you anxiously boarded the vessel with the others as you watched the bowman run to the bell tower, his bow in hand, you wished him all the luck in the world as his retreating figure disappeared into a cloud of smoke.

"I need to get to the mountain." You boldly stated, fidgeting with your thumbs. "Once we find shore I must go, I cannot delay."

The lithe Elf maiden spoke softly. "You may take my Horse." This caught you off guard, you weren't expecting an Elf to approve of your decision to leave the group, let alone offer you her horse. "Your allegiance is to your King, I understand that this news must not be delayed." Your brows furrowed into a deep frown. "You refuse my offer?" She replied.

"No, no it's just- I'm just a little confused as to why you would help me..." Your tone came across as more harsh than you intended but you stood by what you had just spoken.

"With the gold unprotected my King will make a move on the mountain, this could mean war for your King, with what I've seen at work here, there may be darker forces on their way. This isn't merely about the greed of Dwarves, or the arrogance of Elves anymore."

Screams filled the air amidst your conversation with the Elf, it was an unnerving sound, lives being lost in every direction, the smell of charred flesh was overbearing. The young girls in the boat where crying for their father, huddled close to their protective brother. Tauriel carried on rowing the boat forward, manoeuvring through the water, past the bodies and debris, Smaug circling overhead, unleashing his full fury on the town.

Hands clasped the side of the boat, a townsman tried to grip onto the wooden frame, but he had lost all strength left in his body, you reached for him but he slipped back under the water's spell. You returned to your seat on the boat, placing your hands firmly on your lap, clenching your fists tightly into a ball.

"We'll get out of this Lass, don't you worry." Bofur offered you a weak smile, you returned the favour and continued staring at the fabric on your dress.

"For what I said last night...." You started to speak in a quiet and distinct manor. Bofur leaned his head towards you. "I'm sorry, I still feel awful." He grabbed your hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Y/N, you don't have to apologise to me at all." His deep brown eyes were sincere. "I should be the one who's apologising."

Arrow after arrow was shot into the dragon's hide but nothing pierced it, you all looked on in anguish as Smaug continued his offense. Bard's son swung out of the boat, you all tried to grab him and drag him back in, but he was gone before anyone could raise their arms in protest of such madness, the young boy tottered off, collecting a large item from inside a fishing vessel and continued to advance towards the bell tower where his father was trying in vain to kill the beast.

There was a deafening moment of silence in the air, a whip and a cracking sound echoed off everything still left standing. Smaug had purchased a landing on the town hall, his body glowing orange and enraged. You shut your eyes and tried to take your mind to a far away place, the way you had when you heard your mother screaming at your from behind a door in your old life. The Dragon droned on in his selfish arrogance as Bard prepared his shot over the corner of his boy's shoulder... In one swift aim the black arrow took flight... Into the belly of the beast.

The winged creature let out the most harrowing scream as he took flight, shrieking and crying. The arrow had pierced his hide. The seconds ticked away, slower than you could ever recall as you watched the Dragon rise and fall, lifeless, crashing into the buildings below, just missing the boat by mere feet. The water below became unsteady and rocked the vessel dangerously.

"Row to the shore." Kili told the flame haired maiden. She nodded and continued onwards.

Nobody spoke until you had all reached the shore. Tired and exhausted everyone dug deep for the strength to fight through and help the towns folk.

You nodded to Tauriel who directed you over to her horse.

"Take good care of him." She insisted. "He is a good steed and had served me well for many years."

"Of course, your kindness will not be forgotten m'lady. I wish you all the best with your endeavours here. When we meet again, let's hope the circumstances are of a happier nature." She smiled at you.

"I agree. Now go, your King needs you." Her smile widened as she helped your small frame up onto the gigantic horse.

"Before I do, a word of advice. I see the dilemma you're stuck in. Someone you love and someone who loves you who looks on in pain. Don't let anything stand in the way of your heart, no matter what it tells you. Embrace your stars and listen." Her eyes widened and then she nodded.

"I don't wish to cause Legolas any pain." Her voice was but a whisper.

"Nor I to Borfur, but you can't let that stop you from pursuing your heart. Kili is besotted with you and I see the fond glimmer in your eye too." You winked at her. "Arda bless and guide you." You lightly kicked the back of the horse, or as close to its hide as you could reach, the steed moved forward into a canter, before developing into a full gallop.

The sun cast a red glow over the horizon, matching the glow of the burning town below.

The foot of the mountain grew in size as you ventured closer and closer.

"Thorin," you shouted as you approached the gates. A long moment of silence passed, your heart beat loudly against your chest, for a dull second you assumed the worst... What if Smaug had killed them?! The gate began to open and you felt yourself beginning to breathe once more.

The King, adorned in black furs, deep blues and a golden crown came forth from the gates of Erebor.

"Y/N!" He embraced you tightly, "It's good to see you, my friend!"

"I thought you were all dead!" You breathed weakly into his shoulder, it smelled of dust and embers. You assumed it had once belonged to his father... Or grandfather. He slowly released you, his kindness seemed of of the ordinary on such an occasion. A fierce realisation set upon his features...

"Fili, Kili, where are they?" His eyes darted over the horizon.

"They are safe, everyone in our company is safe, the towns people... Oh Thorin, it was horrible!" You felt a sting at the back of your eyes.

"We couldn't stop him..." His voice seemed colder than usual, was his kindness a front? You could sense a shift in his demeanour, one that you hadn't ever noticed before.

The dwarves emerged from behind the gate, all smiling brightly at you, you explained what had happened at the town to them, there wasn't much to say, but you made sure their minds were out at ease when they asked about the remainder of the company. You had hugged each of them in turn, you hadn't noticed him lurking at the back until Bombur shifted out of the way...

"Bilbo..." You ran the short distance between and crashed into his arms. "I thought I lost you..." That weak barrier you had placed up crumbled, tears began to fall freely as you sobbed into his shoulder. He gently whispered soothing shushes to you as his fingers laced through your hair.

"I'm here, Smaug is dead, we're safe. Once this all over we can go back to the Shire." Your heart gave a small twist in your chest. This wasn't over... You peeled yourself from his grasp and softly turned to address the group.

"The towns people will raleigh against you, but that's not the worst of your problems. The woodland King intends to march on the mountain with his army, and he has no idea what lies in wait for all of you!" Your strength and resolved returned once more. "An army of orcs from Gundabad are on their way. The Elves encountered a small group trying to assassinate us all before they made their move on the mountain." You felt it again. White hot light. The jewel around your neck burning it's mark into your skin, more violently than any other times it had activated. You were surrounded by death. Thorin laid slain on the cold ice of the mountain. Bilbo also dead by his side, a band of Orcs rummaging through their deathly belongings, the ring within their grasp, the Orc was thrown back in surprise as the image of flames in the shape of an eye emerged through the darkness, deep whispers echoing off the mountain...

You hadn't realised you had fell, you were absorbed by the premonition, your hands digging into the stone floor. The Dwarves cautiously surrounding you, Bilbo had a firm hand on your shoulder leaning by you protectively. But the sting around your neck didn't subside. The voice in your head was being filtered through your mouth, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"I see you... My Precious... I will rise, you all will fall into darkness." Your voice was much deeper in your head. You hated to think of how the Dwarves were hearing this. Their expressions certainly confirmed your fears. Bilbo's hand squeezed when he heard the word 'Precious', almost digging into your shoulder, you felt a twinge of pain.

The burning remained. But your mind belonged to you once more. You clasped at the necklace becoming a heavier burden by the second, you yanked at the chain and pulled it from your neck. Your eyes fell briefly over Thorin's as he never averted his gaze from the jewel. You placed it into your pocket and picked yourself up off the ground, brushing off the gravel and dirt from your dress.

"What happened there? What did you mean you will rise?" Thorin seemed gravely concerned with your outburst.

"I saw something in my jewel. It was nothing... I think there is still a presence of Smaug on this mountain." The King's eyes washed with relief, he bought the lie. Your anxiety was replaced with nausea at the sight of what you vision had brought upon you. So far the pendant had predicted everything correctly... For the sake of Middle Earth, you hoped that this time it was wrong...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comment!


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